Cascade
by Amynion
Summary: "And if you fall as Lucifer fell, you fall in flames!" An 8x23 coda.
1. Chapter 1

Note: Quote from Les Miserables "Stars" :)

**Cascade**

_And if you fall as Lucifer fell  
You fall in flames!_

"Cas! Castiel!" There was no answer to Dean's shout. No flutter of wings. Nothing. "Where the hell are you?"

The angel had abandoned them again, just when they needed him.

And then it happened... Angels were falling from the sky, lighting up the darkened clouds with their burning wings. What the hell did Castiel do?!

Dean helped his ailing brother off the mud soaked ground and into the shotgun seat of the Impala. He wouldn't lose Sam, not now, not after everything… The ground shook with the impact of another angel hitting the earth nearby. They needed to get to safety, they needed to reach the bunker. Dean was about to jump into the car when he cursed and remembered Crowley. He couldn't just leave the King of Hell in there, cured or not.

So reassuring Sam he would be right back Dean dashed back into the ramshackle church. He nearly broke the door down in his haste. Though Crowley looked on with wide, tear stained, eyes Dean wasn't born yesterday. Those tears might very well be the tears of a crocodile. He freed Crowley, but left the engraved shackles on, pulling him along like a dog on a chain.

"Come on, we're getting out of here".

"The lights… what's going on?" Crowley seemed to speak with a voice that wasn't his own.

As strange as it was Dean didn't have time to dwell on it. Nor did he give the demon an answer. He simply hauled Crowley outside where he could see for himself… it was quite obvious what was happening. The slight smell of burnt feathers tinged the air and the bright cascade of falling angels showed no sign of stopping.

Crowley stared at the sky with awe, his eyes lit up with the sort of innocence reserved for a child's gaze. It was slightly unnerving, but it would take more than that to convince Dean. He threw the Impala's back door open and roughly shoved Crowley inside.

"Dean!" Sam's shaky voice drew Dean's attention to the front of the car. "Look!"

Sam raised a finger, he pointed at something coming out of the trees. Dean slammed the car door shut and followed Sam's line of sight. A familiar trench coated figure came walking towards them.

Dean found himself running over to the angel. The slump of his shoulder and lost look in his eye told of devastation, but a spark of anger had overridden Dean's senses.

"Sammy could be dying! Where the hell were you?" Castiel's eyes dropped to the ground. "What did you do Cas? Look at me dammit!"

He didn't.

Dean lashed out with a fist.

And Castiel fell. Again.

It struck Dean then, in the moment his hand hit flesh and it gave way beneath his fist… in the way Castiel lay face down in the dirt, struggling to his hands and knees… Human… he was human.

Dean's anger slipped away like a cloak from his shoulders. He went to kneel by Castiel and grabbed an arm to help him up. The former angel's breath was ragged, he spat a stream of blood across the road and Dean's heart lurched.

"Oh God… Cas, are you ok? Speak to me… say something".

Castiel turned to look up at Dean, just as he asked. Red ran down his chin and a bruise looked to be forming on his cheek, but it was his eyes that held the real pain. They locked onto Dean, telling of hurt, guilt, remorse, fear, shame and more. But then Castiel's eyes slipped to one side, watching the sky, witnessing his brothers and sisters… They were flickering pinpoints of light reflected in the former angel's eyes. Then the pain became too much, it seemed like a filled cup running over, he couldn't bear to watch any more. Castiel gaze flicked around erratically, his head turned away, and then his eyes settled where they had started… staring at the ground.

"Cas… please". Dean shook the former angel lightly, almost begging for a response. Anything that would show him Castiel was still in there.

He feared Castiel was broken again. Was he so traumatised from the fall he could do nothing more than follow a vague instinct to find Dean?

"Dean…" Relief flooded through Dean at hearing his name, even whispered as weakly as it was.

"You're going to be okay, lets get you to the car". He patted Castiel's arm and helped the former angel to his feet.

His steps were unsteady, but Dean stood strongly by his side, wrenching the car door open, and settling him in. It seemed wrong to sit the former angel next to Crowley, but there was little they could do about it.

Dean got into the Impala and gave Sam a shake. "You with me Sammy?"

Sam's eyes were closed and he was shivering, but he was breathing strongly and didn't seem to be in as much pain. Still a moan was all he could muster.

"Sammy, we've got Cas back. I'm taking us all home, we're all going to be okay you hear?"

Dean started the Impala and looked up at the sky as he pulled off. Only a few angels now fell, the clouds were darkening once again. He glanced in his rear view mirror to see Castiel slumped against the car door. His eyes were fixed on the floor as if he dare not look out of the window. He seemed to fear catching sight of the last of his kin plummeting in wreathes of flame.

Dean noticed Castiel's face was wet with tears as well as blood, Crowley's face was similarly shining, his eyes were bright with sorrow. As Dean watched the pair on the back seat something strange happened. Crowley had been the demon on Castiel's shoulder, his infernal partner in crime… and just a few days ago he had been elbow deep in the former angel's guts. There had been nothing but animosity between the two. But he looked over at Castiel now as if the ex-angel's pain was his very own. Slowly the demon – former demon? – reached out a shackled hand and tentatively placed it on Castiel's shoulder. The former angel flinched but Crowley kept his hand there.

"I'm sorry…" He spoke with that un-Crowley like voice again. And he seemed to hesitate, as if wondering whether to go on… or maybe where to start – _I'm sorry for leading you astray, I'm sorry for shooting you and hurting your friends. I'm sorry you're hurting and human, I'm sorry…_ Sometimes just 'I'm sorry' would have to suffice.

Seeing that selfless act of comfort and penance from Crowley started Dean wondering more seriously… Maybe he was cured, maybe he was human now. There might just be two men on the back seat, one that had fallen to earth and the other who had been dragged up to it, kicking and screaming.

Dean turned his attention back to the road, heading for the sanctuary of the bunker.

"We're going to be okay". He said, staring through the windscreen, speaking more to himself than anyone in the Impala.

Note: Well this was going to be a one shot, then somebody set a plot bunny on me. There will be a second chapter, maybe three... possibly more *fending off plot bunnies with a stick* Well we'll just have to see where the rabbit hole leads ;)


	2. Chapter 2

Note: I'm sorry to have kept you guys waiting! I don't like posting WIPs (I have a tendancy to go back and change things) so I wanted to get a lot more written before posting the second chapter... I'm currently storming through chapter five, so I think it's safe now *g* Quotes are from Coldplay's X&Y.

**Chapter 2**

_When something is broken  
And you try to fix it  
Trying to repair it  
Any way you can_

Dean pulled up outside the bunker and looked around at the Impala's occupants. Sam sat shivering with his eyes shut tight. Crowley looked right back, his expression haunted and wrong. Castiel still stared at the floor, face creased with devastation. Dean was torn, they would all need his help into the bunker, but he didn't want to leave any alone in the car. So who would he take first? Crowley… it would have to be Crowley. He was the one who might be dangerous. Dean couldn't risk taking Sam inside and coming back to find Castiel dead at the demon's hands.

"Okay guys, I'm going to take Crowley inside and chain him up. I'll be right back". He looked from Sam to Castiel, but neither one gave him a response.

Reluctantly Dean got out of the Impala and hauled Crowley from his seat. He was quiet and compliant. Dean didn't have to pull on the chains once, he just followed meekly. They made their way inside to find Kevin at one of the consoles, pushing at buttons.

"Everything went haywire! What's happening? Did you close the gates?" Kevin did a double take at seeing Crowley standing by Dean. "What the hell is he doing here?!"

"He's cured… maybe. I can't risk letting him go though. And Naomi was right, looks like Metatron screwed Cas over, the angels are falling". Dean paused, knowing Kevin might not take his next words too well. "We didn't close the gates".

Kevin stepped away from the console, mouth hanging open. That's when Dean noticed he had his coat and backpack on. He looked ready to leave. "So it was all for nothing?"

"Sam would have _died_. I couldn't let that happen". Dean's voice was a growl.

"I have every sympathy with you there Dean, but I lost my _mom_ to this! The demon you're holding hands with there killed her!"

At that Crowley looked away, Dean swore he heard a quiet sob escape from his throat.

"I know, and I'm sorry. We can work something out… There's still-"

Kevin cut him off. "No Dean, _you_ can work something out. I'm done, I'm walking away. Especially now you've brought _that_ in here".

Kevin climbed the stairs and brushed past Dean, he threw a look of disgust at Crowley as he went by.

"Wait". Dean called out.

Kevin paused before reaching the door. "Don't ask me to stay Dean… I can't".

"I won't try to change your mind. Just do one last thing for me before you go… Sam and Cas are outside in the Impala, will you sit with them, just while I lock Crowley up?"

All of the anger seemed to drain from the prophet as he looked back at Dean. He let a harsh breath out as he paused "… of course. Just make sure you lock him up tight".

With that Dean led Crowley to the dungeon, the demon looked up before Kevin went out of sight and yelled "I'm sorry!"

-oOo-

Down in the dungeon Dean chained Crowley up. The clink of metal echoed around the small, bare, room. Crowley's snarky manner and the evil glint in his eye had gone. Dean stared at those eyes none too kindly as he knelt in front of the demon to finish securing him. If he looked hard enough Dean felt he might fathom some of the 'real Crowley' behind this masquerade. But there was nothing there; he seemed so terribly… human.

"I know you have to chain me up…" Crowley spoke with a soft voice; there was no sense of bravado there. "If I were you I would chain me up… but I just wanted you to know it isn't necessary. I'm not going to hurt anybody anymore".

Part of Dean had started to believe Crowley was really cured. But the hunter in him said it was an act, and that he should take precautions. Besides, they hadn't finished the last trial; this fledgling 'clean Crowley' could be temporary. He might fall back into his old ways.

"Good, you don't want to hurt anyone, and I don't want you to hurt anyone. We're on the same page. The chains are there just in case you change your mind".

"I won't… I can't go back to being _that_". He spat the last word as if he were talking about his mortal enemy,

"Okay… well sit tight, I'll be back to check on you later". Dean had Sam and Castiel in the car. While Crowley was going to need one hell of a confessional he didn't want to spend any longer down here than he had to. Crowley could sit and think on his sins for now.

As he reached the door Dean shot a last look at the demon over his shoulder. His head was bowed, grazing his chest, and a stray tear made its way down his cheek. These were strange times they were stepping into. Times of weeping demons and falling angels…

-oOo-

On returning to the Impala Dean found Sam partially awake and halfway through a stumbling attempt at apologising to Kevin. The prophet sat in the driver's seat, staring straight ahead, seeming lost.

"Okay Sam, lets get you to bed". Dean interrupted. "No, leave Kevin alone… he doesn't want to hear it. He's just going on a road trip for a little while. You can explain when he gets back".

Sam had made a noise of protest when Dean tried to pull him out. He made to grab at Kevin's arm, as if he could gain forgiveness with a touch. Kevin just swallowed hard, he didn't respond… but nor did he try to pull away. Sam seemed to sag in Dean's arms when he got out of the car, so Dean slung an arm over his shoulders and grabbed Sam's wrist, taking his weight, helping him along.

As they awkwardly stepped away from the Impala Dean turned to Kevin. "Can you see if Cas will get out of the car and follow us?"

The prophet gave a nod and went to open Castiel's door wide. The former angel's dead gaze didn't shift. Dean had seen that same stare when they left Castiel in the hospital with Meg. It was a worry.

"Cas, can you get out?" Kevin asked.

He reached a hand towards Castiel, but seemed wary of touching the former angel. It was as if he expected a smiting, even though that was beyond Castiel's power now.

With no response from the ex-angel Kevin reluctantly gave his arm a slight pull.

"Dean needs you…" That got Castiel's attention. "… to follow him".

He looked up, eyes searching for Dean. On finding him hauling Sam to the bunker's door Castiel near enough scrabbled his way out of the car to get over there. Dean propped Sam up against the wall while he saw to opening the door. The cool stone against his warm skin seemed a relief if his brother's briefly relaxed expression was anything to go by. Before leading his ragtag band inside Dean turned to look up at the prophet.

"Kevin…" What could he say? No apology would help and words of comfort would offer no soothing balm. "Thank you".

Dean loaded those two words with enough meaning to show he wasn't just thanking Kevin for sitting with Sam and Castiel.

Kevin looked down with a half hearted smile. "See you around Dean. I'm sure we'll cross paths again, my luck being what it is… Take care of them".

With that the prophet set off down the road. Dean stood a moment watching his retreating form, contemplating the crap people were dragged through when they got involved with the Winchesters. With a sigh he went back to the door, catching Castiel's eye as he turned. Yeah… people were dragged through a lot of crap with them. A voice came to Dean from a memory… _When Castiel first laid a hand on you in Hell, he was lost! _... Did Castiel ever regret reaching that dirty, twisted soul in Hell? Did he ever wish another angel had the 'honour'? How different things might have been…

On getting them inside Dean sat Castiel down at the table while he settled Sam in bed. Moments later he returned to fill a couple of glasses with water. Dean set one down in front of the ex-angel… so quiet, he was still so quiet. He seemed to be in shock. So Dean hesitated on going straight back to Sam and took a seat opposite the former angel.

"Cas? What did you do? Can you tell me what you did?" He spoke gently, trying to coax words out of the ex-angel.

Castiel looked at him, and spoke slowly, as if he was trying to fathom something he struggled to understand. "It was a spell… all just a spell. My grace was the last piece. I was wrong… I trusted the wrong person, _again_".

"Metatron was a slimy little dick; even we thought he was one of the good guys. And Naomi… well, she almost had you kill me. Of course you're going to trust him over her".

"I didn't fix anything, I broke it all…

"He broke it Cas. This is all on Metatron".

Castiel stared at Dean then, as if he was looking through to his soul. "Metatron pulled the trigger, but I put the gun in his hand".

Dean sighed. This was going to be a long talk, and Sam still needed him. Well, at least Castiel was talking now, even if he was intent on blaming himself. "Okay, let me just see to Sam. I'll be right back".

As Dean took the glass of water and left, Castiel followed him with haunted eyes.

-oOo-

Dean set the drink down on Sam's bedside table and pulled his boots off. There was sweat beading on his brother's brow, but he still shivered.

"Sammy, can you drink a bit of water for me?"

Dean helped to prop Sam up and lifted the cool glass to his lips. At first he sipped, and then he gulped, as if he'd been stranded in the desert for innumerable years.

"Easy…" Dean pulled the glass away and settled Sam back down.

His brother blinked up at the ceiling, stray drops of water running from his lips. "Did we… did we do the right thing?" Sam's voice was small, almost desperate.

"Of course it was the right thing… you're here".

"But how many people won't be because we didn't close the gates?"

"Don't think about it right now, just concentrate on getting better". Dean put a hand on Sam's shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze.

At that Sam closed his eyes, seemingly giving in. "What happened to Crowley?"

"I brought him here; he's chained up in the dungeon".

"What? Is he still…"

"Yeah, he's crying and apologising, it's… well it's creepy actually. God knows if it'll stick".

"He said he…" Sam's voice grew fainter, as if he was fighting sleep. "He said he deserved to be loved".

"Don't we all?" Dean couldn't help but crack a smile at the image of Crowley, the King of Hell, begging for love.

A quiet moment passed and Dean's thoughts turned to their last words in the church. "We're good aren't we Sammy? You and me?"

But nothing more came from Sam, his quiet breaths had turned into the light huffs of sleep.

"Okay… we'll talk later". Dean said to himself.

Quietly Dean got to his feet and exited Sam's room. He tried to shut the door as stealthily as possible. As it clicked into place a loud crash came echoing down the corrider. "Shit, Cas!"

Dean set off at a run.

He found Castiel amid a scene of chaos.

Books were strewn across the floor, their pages torn out, like stray feathers scattered around a dead bird. The shelves they once rested on had haphazardly fallen to the ground. A chair lay atop the map, cracks spidered across the glowing coloured countries from the point of impact. There had been two lamps on the table; one was now shattered in pieces on the floor. As Dean stood, speechless, watching, Castiel swept the other lamp aside with a forceful blow. Then he took another chair and threw it across the room. It hit the wall with a splintering crack. All the while he yelled. It was a sound that clawed at your heart, as if all the pain the former angel felt was being let loose in an endless howl.

"Cas! Stop!"

Dean finally found his voice.

But his voice alone couldn't penetrate Castiel's blind hysteria.

The former angel was like a wild animal… Dean approached, his hands raised in a placating gesture.

"Cas, please calm down… You're going to hurt yourself".

Slowly Dean reached out and grabbed a hold of Castiel's arm. The former angel violently pushed him away. There was no angelic strength behind the action, but it was done forcefully enough that Dean had to take a few steps back to keep his feet.

"_Cas_" Dean growled his name one last time.

That was all the warning Castiel got before Dean launched himself at the former angel. They were a tangle of flying limbs, but Dean had a slight size and strength advantage now. He managed to wrap his arms tight around Castiel, pinning the former angel's arms against his body.

"Castiel, stop this. _Now_".

Castiel didn't stop. He struggled like prey caught in a predator's iron jaws. It broke Dean apart to see him like this, so feral, so… un-angelic. Then the inevitable happened. They crashed to the ground, landing amongst the remains of the ruined lamp. Dean fell on top of Castiel, trapping the former angel under him. Both lay still, breathing hard. Dean took a couple of moments, half expecting Castiel to leap up and continue his rampage if he moved away. But all tension had leaked from the body beneath him. The former angel was quiet.

Dean slid off Castiel, he swept away the debris so he could sit in front of the ex-angel. Castiel was shaking like a leaf as he pushed himself to his knees. Dean offered a hand to help. They ended up facing each other with Dean supporting Castiel firmly at the elbow while the former angel gripped Dean's shirt. His hand twisted in the material, clutching as if trying to find an anchor in a storm.

Then Castiel's wild, fearful eyes met Dean's worried gaze.

"Cas… what the hell man?" Dean's words might have been strong, but his voice was soft.

"I told you I would destroy everything again! You didn't listen! Why did you look for me in purgatory? I should have been left there; it would have been safer for everyone if I was left there!" The former angel's voice sounded wrecked.

"The only destroying you've done has been in this room. You were trying to help Cas… you were trying to do the right thing. That's what counts". Dean kept a tight grip on Castiel, as if he could hold the ex-angel together with his hands alone.

"And it's not fair! I've only tried to do the right thing, and it's always wrong. I tried to fix my family and I've _mutilated_ them! I tried to help and I get to become _this_! Why am I being punished Dean?"

"I don't know… all I know is that tired cliché: life isn't fair. You think me and Sam have had it easy? We go from one disaster to the next… starting the apocalypse, raising Lucifer… You asked me once if I'd rather have peace or freedom. We can't have both I guess. Either we have peace where everything's fair, and there are puppies and rainbows… or we have freedom, where bad things can happen to good people. It's bloody and it's dirty, but at least we have choices. This choice was a wrong one, doesn't mean the next will be".

"Choices…" The anger fell from Castiel's face then, his expression cracked with sorrow. "Metatron took my choice when he took my grace. I didn't have a choice when he cut it out of me…"

A dry sob tore itself from Castiel's throat, and Dean silently begged him not to cry. He had seen Castiel crazy, bloody, and more, but he could not bear to see the former angel cry. A stray line filtered through Dean's mind from a film he watched with Sammy a million years ago… _Don't cry. If you have become __human enough to cry_,_ then all the magic in the world cannot change you back_… He didn't want Castiel human enough to cry. He didn't want an angel maimed and violated into humanity.

The former angel's face crumpled, his head bowed and the tears came. "He cut it out of me Dean… he cut it out and my wings burned".

Those first few tears had opened the floodgates, and Castiel cried. He cried so completely it almost scared Dean. It reminded him of John, after their mom had died. When he thought the boys weren't around there were quiet moments when he allowed himself to break down with grief. It seemed there would never be anything more in life than raw, clawing, pain. And it scared Dean - Dads were strong and unbreakable, they weren't allowed to cry. Neither were angels. Though Castiel wasn't one any longer… Dean pulled him into a tight embrace.

"I know Cas… we're going to get you through this, you're going to be okay".

"No I won't… I have a soul and it hurts".

"Mine does too, every damn day". Dean felt his own eyes begin to well and shine with unshed tears.

Castiel's hitched breaths began to even out. "And my hands hurt".

Then Dean realised his shirt was sticky where the former angel was clutching it tightly. Gently he pushed Castiel upright and pried his hand away. It was wet with blood. The other was similarly sliced. He must have caught them on the lamp debris when they fell.

Dean looked up to scout for something to wrap around Castiel's hands. The room looked like a hurricane had hit it. He had left the former angel sitting quietly at the table, how had he gone from that to 'force 10' so suddenly?

"Why Cas? What brought this on?" Dean swept an arm at the room.

Castiel surveyed the scene of destruction then looked at him somewhat sheepishly. "I dropped the glass of water you brought me".

In any other situation Dean would have laughed.

Then a shadow darkened the former angel's eyes. "I reached for my grace to fix it, and there was nothing there. The glass just remained on the floor, in pieces".

-oOo-

After cleaning up Castiel's hands and getting him to bed, Dean returned to the main room of the bunker. He walked through the wreckage, setting chairs right and picking up books. If only the wreckage of their lives would be as easy to clean up. Sam was hurting from the trials, Castiel was fallen and human, and Crowley had been granted a heart. Dean wasn't sure how he would even begin to pick up the pieces.

Eventually Dean came to the glass that Castiel had dropped. He knelt down and gingerly picked up one of the shards. It caught the light as Dean held it up. On twisting it around between his fingers Dean caught his reflection. A sad transparent eye stared back at him. This little insubstantial thing had triggered Castiel's breakdown. Out of everything he had been through it took this for him to crack. It seemed one more thing he couldn't fix was too much…

Dean straightened and tossed the piece of glass in the bin. They were not too broken to fix, none of them were.

_I know something is broken  
And I'm trying to fix it  
Trying to repair it  
Any way I can_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Dean's eyes flickered open as reality encroached on his dreams. His senses prickled at feeling a presence by his bed. There was a knife beneath his pillow, Dean reached for it and turned to find Castiel sitting in the chair next to him.

"Jesus Cas, I could have stabbed you". Dean breathed hard and relaxed, sinking back into the mattress. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I couldn't sleep"

Dean sat up then, and took in the hunched form of Castiel, near enough crumpled in his seat. He certainly looked as if he needed sleep. "Nightmares huh?"

"That's… part of it". He squinted and hesitated, as if he would have trouble explaining the whole of it.

"Would it help if I sat with you for a while? I won't watch you the whole night; I've told you enough times how creepy that is".

Castiel paused as if considering it. "Maybe… but it's not night any more".

"Seriously?" Dean reached for his watch. It read seven am. "I feel like I've only had two hours… Ok, time to get up. Let me shower and I'll get us some breakfast".

-oOo-

Before breakfast Dean went to check on the other occupants of the bunker. He was happy to find Sam sitting up and looking much better, if a little pale.

"Hey Sammy, how're you feeling?"

"Great". He smiled painfully. "Ok, maybe not great, but I'm getting there".

"Think you can face some breakfast?"

"Yeah, give me a minute and I'll be right up".

Dean held up a hand emphatically. "Woah, you're stopping there, I'll bring it down to you".

"It's okay, I can get out of bed without keeling over".

"Yeah well you dropped like a sack of potatoes coming out of that church". He fixed Sam with a sceptical eye.

"I'll be fine. If you want me to stay in bed you're going to have to chain me to it".

"Don't think that I won't…" But Dean caved under Sam's watery puppy eyed stare. "Alright, but if you start feeling bad it's straight back to bed. Take it easy dude".

Dean clapped Sam on the shoulder before leaving. He had one more stop to make.

-oOo-

The dungeon door protested with a creak as it opened. Crowley shied from the sudden flood of light. He sniffed as if he'd been crying,

"Morning sunshine, sleep well?" Dean strode across the room and planted himself in front of the demon with his arms crossed.

"Not really… I've been asked the question 'how do you sleep at night?' more times than I care to recall. Only now is it I realise how a tormented conscience keeps you from rest".

"Thinking on your sins huh?"

"And I have so many to think about". His head fell to his chest, almost appearing shamed. "I have wronged you Dean, and I am sorry. Words will never be enough I know, but I hope to find some way right my wrongs".

"You can't change what you did Crowley, good deeds don't erase the bad. It doesn't work like that".

Crowley looked back up at Dean then. Like the flick of a switch his manner changed from sorrowful to desperate. "Then how can I wash this blood from my hands? I can't stand it!"

"It will always be there…"

"Don't say that… don't say that to me!" Distress shone in the demon's eyes as he interrupted.

"… but all things fade in time. What you've done, it's raw and weeping. But it will scar, and when you're a different man the marks will be there to remind you what you used to be. They will keep you on the right path. I was in hell Crowley, I tortured. You think all the evil things I kill now make a damn bit of difference to the poor saps I tore apart? No… but I know there is some part of me capable of such depravity, and I won't give in to it. Be a better man Crowley, that's all you can do".

Crowley sank back, nearly deflating within his chains. "Thank you Dean… and thank Sam for me, for giving me this chance. Maybe I can work at being a better man".

"Hey, maybe you'll even find love". Dean uncrossed his arms and relaxed. He couldn't restrain himself from poking at the demon's revelation to Sam in the church.

The demon nodded slowly, taking it seriously. "Maybe I will be worthy of it eventually… Could I trouble you for a drink of water?"

"I can do you one better than that. How do pancakes sound?" If this was an act then Crowley was one hell of an actor. Dean thought the time had come to let the demon's leash out a little…

"You would make me pancakes?" He sounded completely astounded.

"Well I'm doing them for Sam and Cas, might as well throw you some too". Dean stepped forwards and started to undo Crowley's shackles. "I'm going to trust you Crowley. You'll only get one chance to show me I'm not wrong in trusting you. Understand?"

He didn't brandish Ruby's knife that he had tucked discreetly into his belt. He didn't threaten to stab the demon if he put a toe out of line. Instead Dean relied on fragile words of trust, leaving talk of consequences hanging in the air. If Crowley really was cured maybe that would be enough…

"Understood".

His chains hit the floor with a heavy clink.

-oOo-

And so Dean found himself dishing up pancakes to the three at the table. Sam sat at the head with Castiel and Crowley next to him, facing each other, like two sides of the same coin. Castiel fidgeted and watched the demon warily. It was strange… he was always so still as an angel. Like an undisturbed lake he hardly moved. Now he shifted about, almost seeming uncomfortable in his skin. Crowley looked at Castiel with sorrowful eyes when the former angel glanced away. Sam looked between them as if he expected some kind of angel-demon fight to break out.

Dean knew how he felt. He could imagine Castiel standing to raise a glowing hand at Crowley, while the demon hissed and spat every insult back at the angel. But nothing of the sort happened. They both sat eating their pancakes. It was almost surreal. Dean inwardly smiled at the fact such scenes of ordinary domesticity would be strange for him.

Well… now he noticed Castiel wasn't so much eating his pancakes as picking at them and swallowing bits down as if it were laced with barbed wire. Then he stopped altogether.

"Something wrong Cas?"

"I'm not hungry". He replied with a small voice.

"You're human now, you've got to eat".

"Thank you for reminding me. I'm still not hungry". The words were bitter but his tone was dead.

"Do you even know what hungry feels like?"

"I am familiar with the sensation; I was practically human when I lost my powers before… I don't feel hungry".

"Okay… just let me know when you do want something to eat". Dean was reluctant to push at the former angel recalling Castiel's explosion the night before. But he was going to make sure he had something later.

Castiel's chair scraped back and he went off to goodness knows where… Dean just let him go.

Crowley finished his pancakes and ventured a question. "May I take a look at some of these books?"

The dangerous ones were under lock and key so Dean couldn't see what harm it could do. He waved a hand at the bookcase. "Have at it".

That left Sam with Dean; eventually he downed his fork and yawned.

"You okay Sammy?"

"Yeah, just tired".

"Okay, back to bed with you".

"Dean…" Sam was about to protest but Dean gave him a glare that said he couldn't be reasoned with. "Alright… and just give him time yeah?"

"Cas? I'll give him as much time as he needs, as long as he's eating and sleeping and keeping himself alive".

"It's a big change for him, you can't expect him to hit the ground running".

"I'd rather he didn't hit the ground and face plant you know? And he's not the only fallen angel we've got to worry about. The whole world just saw Heaven fall, I'm a little scared to turn the TV on".

"Then don't. Can't we take the day off? We're not the only hunters out there you know".

"_You_ can take the day off, you're going to bed. Me? I've got a job to do".

-oOo-

Eventually Dean did turn the TV on to find footage of falling angels all over every channel.

"… _the public is advised to call 911 and not approach these individuals. It is not known what danger, if any, they pose…_"

The internet was rife with theories, from government conspiracies and aliens, to hoaxes. Apparently some were convinced this was evidence of the end times and a few had even committed suicide.

There were a few reports of fallen angels in the local area. Dean scribbled down some details, but felt conflicted at leaving. He really didn't want to leave Crowley and Castiel alone with Sam ailing to boot. But this had to be looked into… One location was only a short drive away. He might be able to make it there and back before they even noticed he was gone.

Decision made Dean went to change into his suit and tell the others he was off out. Sam was deep asleep, so he left a note. Crowley was deep in a book, and gave a nod of acknowledgement. Castiel wasn't in his room… after a scout around Dean found him in the kitchen, leaning slightly forwards over the counter. He was facing away from Dean, head bowed and quiet.

"Hey Cas, if you wanted something to eat I could have made you…" It was then Dean noticed a slick of red on the surface Castiel bent over. "Cas? You okay?"

Dean rushed forwards and put a hand to the former angel's shoulder to pull him around.

The front of his white shirt was covered in blood.

"Fuck, was it Crowley? Did Crowley do this to you?" Dean's frantic mind jumped to the logical explanation. The last time he'd seen Castiel covered in blood Crowley had shot him.

Then the glint of metal in Castiel's hand became too clear. He had done this to himself… The ex-angel raised the knife to his chest and went to take another slice, but Dean smacked his hand away. The knife clattered across the kitchen floor as Castiel lost his hold on it. Dean quickly shirked his jacket off and pressed it to the former angel's chest. His eyes were hollow and lowered, as if he hadn't the strength to raise them.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

Dean grabbed Castiel's blank face with his free hand, gripping him about the jaw, raising his head to try and force eye contact.

"Answer me!"

Castiel closed his eyes, and Dean squeezed none too gently to get his attention. The former angel's eyes flew back open and met Dean's gaze. Dean almost wished he hadn't, they were windows to Castiel's soul now, and all he could see was pain.

"… I'm cutting it out. It doesn't belong… I can cut it out". The ex-angel finally spoke, his voice detached.

"Your soul? You can't cut it out Cas, you know that doesn't make sense". Though sense and logic clearly didn't mean much to Castiel in his current state.

He moaned slightly as Dean pushed harder on his wounds.

"But it doesn't belong, this _thing_ inside me, this useless thing where my grace should be". A scowl darkened Castiel's features.

"Let's sit you down…" Dean helped Castiel slide down to the floor. He checked under the jacket to find the blood slowing a little. "I need to run and get the first aid kit. Can you keep this pressed against your chest?"

Dean placed Castiel's hand on the sopping jacket and inched away, but Castiel dropped it and violently dug his fingers into his wounds.

"I hate it! It's not mine! I don't want it!" He spat.

Quickly Dean pulled the former angel's hand away before he could damage himself further. He replaced the jacket and sighed. "Cas, please, I'm trying to help you here…"

"He gave it to me, I hate it…" His voice was getting weaker. His eyelids were starting to drop.

Dean grabbed the stained trench coat in a tight fist and shook the former angel. "It's _your_ soul Cas, you hear me? It's yours, the same one you would have had if you fell any other way. Like Anna, remember?"

Castiel's eyes finally closed. It looked like they would have to talk when he woke.

Dean heard heavy footsteps behind him.

"What happened?" It was Crowley.

"Cas had an accident". It felt somehow wrong for the demon to see Castiel like this. But Dean wasn't above asking for aid. "Well, don't just stand there. Help me get him to his room".

Crowley approached like a lamb afraid of a lion. "He's bleeding…"

"Thank you Captain Obvious. A little help here?" The demon's face was pale when Dean turned to look at him. "Don't tell me curing you has made you afraid of blood?"

"No, it's just… I left him like that before, and I was glad. His suffering was so sweet. and now, I'm scared for him. And it scares me that I used to enjoy it. Why would I find such pain enjoyable?" Crowley's expression had turned melancholic; his voice was full of disbelief.

Dean sincerely hoped Crowley wasn't about to lose it too. He couldn't handle two of them falling apart. "Well if we can get him to his room and patch him up he'll be absolutely fine. He'll just need some stitches".

At that Crowley gave a nod and stepped forwards to take Castiel's arm.

-oOo-

The two of them got Castiel to his room with little trouble. Crowley made a quick exit as soon as the former angel hit the mattress. Dean swore he was on the verge of tears.

He looked down at the prone figure before him and sighed. The metallic tang of blood hung in the air… at least Castiel was out for this. Dean threw his wet jacket on the floor and pulled Castiel's coat and shirt off. The coat wasn't easy to manhandle off the former angel, Dean couldn't bring himself to cut it away. But he took a knife to the shirt, it was already torn and ruined, the material pulled away after clinging tackily to the former angel's wounds.

That's when Dean first got a good look at them. Slices crisscrossed Castiel's chest. They were long but not too deep. Thankfully he seemed to have missed nicking anything vital, but how different it could have been if he had used a bit more pressure, if Dean had been a bit too late, if he… It didn't bear thinking about. So Dean busied himself wiping marred flesh with antiseptic and talking softly in case Castiel could hear… _Okay, this is going to sting a bit… I'm just going to start on this one here… you'll feel a bit of pulling_… All the while Dean worked Castiel remained still. He finally let out a moan as Dean pulled him up to wrap gauze around his chest. But he didn't regain consciousness.

Dean settled back down in his seat and watched the former angel. He looked so peaceful. It was hard to believe he had been cutting into his own flesh moments earlier. The fallen angel he was going to look into crossed Dean's mind. No… he couldn't leave now. There was a fallen angel who needed him right here. He would stay, it could wait until tomorrow. Dean sat back and listened to the light huffs of Castiel's breath, he found himself dozing off too…

Some time later Dean half roused himself awake as somebody came into the room and set a cup of coffee down next to him.

"Thanks Sammy". Dean muttered muzzily as he rubbed his eyes and pushed himself upright.

He found Crowley, not Sam, standing by.

"Oh… sorry, it's just usually me and Sam down here you know…" _and I don't expect demons to bring me coffee_, he left unsaid.

"It's fine", Crowley inclined his head towards Castiel. "Has he not woken yet?"

"No, but give him time, he's stronger than he looks".

"I know…" How he knew was left hanging in the air as Crowley made his exit. Dean suspected it had something to do with shooting the former angel.

He reached for the coffee and took a sniff before sipping it. Some part of him expected it to be poisoned. This new caring Crowley would take some getting used to, the concern he showed over Castiel was bizarre… but heartening.

As he placed the mug back down Dean caught Castiel staring at him through half lidded eyes.

"Hey, how are you feeling? Want anything for the pain?"

"No… I can bear it". Castiel's fingers ran lightly over the bandages covering his chest.

"Do you remember what you did?"

"Yes, it was foolish… I'm sorry Dean, I don't know why I did it, it's just…" His brow furrowed. "The world is too heavy, and I am too light".

For a moment Dean wondered if Castiel's mind was still addled, but then it made perfect sense. Without wings gravity would be holding him down to the earth, and yet he would be free of their weight.

"Just promise me you're not going to do anything stupid like that again".

"I won't… I know it wasn't a reasonable course of action, it only made sense to me at the time".

"Okay… and for the record. Your soul is yours; it has nothing to do with Metatron". Dean was no authority on matters of angels and souls, but he had to make Castiel understand that what he had within him was his, and it was good.

"It feels… wrong". Castiel settled a fist over his heart.

"Of course it does, you never had one before".

The ex-angel looked thoughtful. "I touched souls and I've drained them, I took them in from purgatory… but I've never had my own".

"Well now you have, and you've got to take care of it".

"I didn't ask for this… I didn't want a soul".

"I know you didn't, but you just have to play the cards you're dealt".

Castiel looked around the room and then suddenly pushed himself up with a hiss. He paused and gasped, eyes scrunched up in pain.

"Woah, easy there, what's up?" Dean got to his feet, making to steady the former angel.

"Where's my coat?"

"Don't worry, it's down here. It's just a bit messy; I'll get it cleaned for you. We should really get you some new clothes anyway. You can't wear that old thing all the time".

"Why not?" He seemed genuinely perplexed.

"Because you don't have magical angel dry cleaning any more. Besides, variety is the spice of life, it's about time we got you something new".

Dean helped Castiel lie back down, his breaths were short and panted until his head hit the pillow.

"Get some rest. Just close your eyes, relax, and you'll be asleep before you know it".

Castiel gave a slight nod and closed his eyes. The frown on his forehead said he was having a harder time with the "relax" part.

-oOo-

Glad to find Sam awake Dean strode into his room and flopped down in the seat by his bed.

"Everything alright?" Sam looked up at him with concern.

Dean sat forwards and rubbed a hand over his face with a deep sigh. "We're going to have to watch Cas. I just found him trying to carve his soul out of his chest with a kitchen knife".

"Shit, is he okay?"

"Yeah… physically anyway. I got to him before he managed to do any serious damage. He's stitched up and in bed now".

"… and mentally?"

"I don't know man… it was like he was in a dream when he was doing it. But when I spoke to him just now he was perfectly lucid, he knew it was crazy… I didn't tell you, but he smashed the bunker up too".

"Oh… I wondered where the lamps had gone".

"You don't want to see the map… or the books. Anyway I cleaned up, I figured it was a one off… thought once he'd let the rage out he might be okay. But now I don't know".

"It's early days; it'll take time for him to adjust".

"I hope you're right… but what if falling broke him? What if he never adjusts? He could have another 'episode' and… "

"- and what if he's perfectly fine? Give him a chance Dean. In the mean time we can keep a close eye on him, make sure he's not alone with anything sharp again…"

"I suppose…" Dean seemed to come round, but the troubled expression didn't leave his face. "… I did turn the TV on. It's not good Sammy, the whole world saw what happened. Looks like the authorities are taking the angels in, people are being advised to call 911… God knows what they're going to do with them".

"We have to find them Dean. Cas had his grace cut out, he's human… but the others, they were cast out like Lucifer. They might still have some power, and what they could do…"

"I know. I've found some reports of fallen angels around here. One is just a short drive away… but I can't check it out, not now. You guys need me here".

"You should go Dean. I'm fine, really I'm like 99%. I can watch them".

"Yeah, and what happens when Crowley goes evil and Cas goes psycho and you need that 1% you haven't got?"

"Ok then, we'll all go".

"What? No!" Dean looked at Sam as if he was crazy.

"Just hear me out. Why don't we all go - you can drop me and Cas off at the shops. I'll take him to do some nice, normal, safe, human things… like buy some stuff he'll need - clothes, a toothbrush. You can take Crowley to check out the angel report and keep him within stabbing range.

Dean let out a brief huff of laughter, almost by accident. "You know… for a moment there the thought of stabbing Crowley seemed strange. He's just been so… _nice_ recently. He helped with Cas, and he brought me coffee. Sam, the dude actually _brought me coffee_. I feel like I've stepped into a parallel world…"

"Try having him tell you that you deserve to be loved". Sam gave a little shudder.

"Hey, are you sure you want to go shopping with Cas tomorrow? Wouldn't you rather get cosy with your boyfriend Crowley instead?" Dean gave a sly smile.

"Bite me" Sam threw back at him. "So we're on for tomorrow then?"

"Okay… just don't dress Cas up like a douche alright?"

"I'm not going to dress him in anything; he can choose his own clothes".

"Well, don't _let him_ dress up like a douche then. I'm gonna hit the hay, and you should get some sleep, we've got a busy day tomorrow".

-oOo-

Dean was drifting around the edges of sleep when he felt a presence by his bed again. This time he didn't reach for the knife. He rolled over and started speaking before he even saw Castiel. He knew who it would be.

"Cas, you need to sleep"

"I can't". The former angel gripped the arm of the chair tightly with one hand; the other was clasped over his chest. He sat slumped and breathing heavily with dark shadows beneath his eyes.

Dean pushed up on his elbows and gave the ex-angel a critical eye. "Let me get you something for the pain. It'll help you sleep too".

"No". His voice was as tight as his hold on the chair. He was clearly hurting.

"You don't have to suffer like this". Although pleased that this Castiel didn't seem to have the same proclivity for drugs as his 2014 version, Dean still didn't want to see him in pain.

"I will endure it".

"You shouldn't have to".

"I want to".

Dean raised an eyebrow at that. Why on earth would he want to go through such pain? Was it the same sort of crap penance thing that saw him stay behind in purgatory? Dean decided to drop it, he clearly wasn't going to make any headway in that direction.

"Okay, let's get you back to bed. I'll sit with you a while".

Castiel complied with that direction, and Dean stopped until he was sure the former angel was well away. He crept back to his own bed as if afraid to wake a child he had just laid down to sleep.

When morning came around and Dean worked his way from sleep, he sensed a presence at his side again.

"Cas… old habits die hard huh?" He rolled over expecting to find the ex-angel watching him intently having stopped up all night.

Instead Castiel was fast asleep. His previously tight grip on the chair was now lax, and his chest rose and fell rhythmically with soft breaths of sleep. Although annoyed to find the ex-angel had strayed from his bed again, Dean was glad to see he was at least getting some rest.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

After dropping Sam and Castiel off at the local shops Dean and Crowley continued on to track down the fallen angel. They found themselves pulling up outside a rundown house on the bad side of town. The garden was more dirt than grass, a couple of children played with toy soldiers in the dust. Their clothes were worn and stained, most likely hand me downs of several generations. They watched Dean and Crowley with angry eyes… as if they were used to men in suits coming by.

"Okay, here we are, let me do the talking".

"As you wish…"

They got out of the Impala and approached the front door. Dean gave a warm smile and a wave to the kids on passing, but they just stopped playing and stared. Shrugging it off he made for the door and knocked gently. It looked like it might fall off if he went at it any harder. Crowley shifted from one foot to the other, seeming oddly nervous.

Dean raised his hand to knock again when the door suddenly opened. A middle aged woman stood there. She had a toddler resting on one hip and a cigarette dangling from her lips. She removed it and scowled.

"What do you want? I've got nothing worth taking, I told 'em before".

"Ma'am, you've got us mistaken. We're the FBI, I'm Agent Ragsdale and this is my partner Agent Steinhardt. We've come about the man you took in, the one who fell from the sky. I take it you're Mrs Wright?"

"Ms if you please". The sound of kids causing trouble burst from within the house. She turned and yelled at them to shut up before facing Dean again. "Now what do you want?"

"Is he still on the premises?"

"What? Don't your right hand know what your left hand's doing? A couple of agents already came and took him away".

Dean silently cursed. He was hoping they might have beaten the FBI to it. "Okay, then can you fill in a few details for us?"

"I already filled the other agents in". She took a drag on her cigarette and blew the smoke Dean's way.

Dean just gave a tight smile and pressed on. "Humour me".

"Well there ain't much to tell. There was a bright light over yonder". She indicated to the sky over Dean's shoulder with the hand holding her cigarette. Ash fell from its precarious end and landed dangerously close to Dean's shoe. "Ground shook like an earthquake. The kids all ran out to go look, later the next day my Cayden goes back out and turns up with this man in a suit. Shaking like a newborn lamb he was. I cuffed the stupid boy for bringing him here. They were saying on the radio not to go near them, and here he is bringing one home for dinner! I locked the guy up in our cellar and called the police straight away. Next thing I know the FBI are on my door step".

"Did he say or do anything?"

"No, he was struck dumb or something, mumbled a bit of nonsense… all I understood was talk of flying or falling maybe, but he went where I pushed him, he gave me no trouble. In fact he seemed real scared, I might have felt sorry for him if he hadn't just fallen out the sky… What are these people then? Aliens?"

"I'm afraid I'm not authorised to discuss that".

"Of course you're not". She rolled her eyes and took another drag.

"Can we talk to Cayden?"

"He's in the yard. If you can find him you can talk to him". With that she turned to leave.

"Okay, thanks for your…" The door slammed shut. "… help".

"Now wasn't she a delight?" Crowley chuckled at Dean's side.

"Come on, lets find that kid and get out of here".

The two children playing in the dirt didn't answer to the name 'Cayden'. Although they probably wouldn't admit to being him if they were. Dean and Crowley headed back to the Impala after a scout around the yard turned up nothing. There were other angel reports they could look into.

As they approached the car a small figure sitting by the wheel came into view. To his horror Dean realised the boy had a piece of chalk in his hand and he was writing on the Impala's pristine paintwork.

"Hey! Get off my car!" He near enough growled at the kid.

The boy dropped the chalk and shot to his feet.

"Stop right there!" Dean checked his Baby over and noticed a dusty white 'Cay' scrawled on her side. Having found their target he calmed a little and tried not to scare him off. "You're Cayden right?"

The boy nodded.

"Can I ask you a few questions?"

Dean knelt down to look Cayden in the eye. He surreptitiously attempted to brush the writing off with his sleeve while he was there. The kid didn't look any older than ten.

He fixed Dean with a baleful glare. "You're from the FBI, I heard you talking to my mom. You took my angel away".

"He told you he was an angel did he?"

"Yeah, though he was real funny for an angel. I didn't think angels cried".

_Neither did I kid_… "So you found him then?"

"Me and Liam did. Are you going to take Liam's angel too? You took mine; it's not fair he gets to keep his". Cayden kicked the dirt with a sulky face.

"Wait, there's another one?"

Cayden nodded.

"Where is he?"

"In Liam's den". He spoke as if 'Liam's den' was a landmark known the world over.

"… and where is that?"

"In the woods near his house. And that's off Sunflower Street". Cayden pre-empted Dean's next question with a grin.

"Okay, thanks kid. Now get out of here".

He gave Cayden a playful push and the boy went running to his brothers in the yard.

"We need to get to that angel. We can pick Sam and Cas up on the way. Hopefully we'll beat the FBI to it this time…"

Crowley had a look of concern on his face. "Are you sure you want to take Castiel?"

"I'm anything but sure… but we're dealing with angels here and I'd rather have him than not. We'll be with him anyway, we'll look after him".

-oOo-

Dean looked into his rear view mirror at Castiel with a slight smile on his face. The former angel was now dressed in red plaid and jeans. Either Sam had something to do with this or Castiel was adopting Winchester style. At least he wasn't dressed like a douche.

"Please tell me you brought more than just plaid".

"Sam said I should buy these…" Castiel rummaged about in his bag and pulled out a pair of sunglasses.

"Those go on your face, they don't count".

Castiel delicately put the sunglasses on and looked up with a smile, as if seeking Dean's approval.

"Looking sharp there Cas. We could put you on a Harley and take photos, you'd make a great Mr August".

"I got this too" Castiel went back to his bag. This time a black t-shirt emerged. The ex-angel held it up against himself to reveal an "AC-DC" logo.

"Now that's what I'm talking about! We need some 'Back in Black' on, stat". Dean started fishing for the right tape.

"Oh Dean, look at the toothbrush I brought, it vibrates!" Castiel wielded the toothbrush as if it was a weapon, then he pushed a button on it and a soft buzzing sound filled the car.

"That's… great". Dean was happy to see the former angel filled with apparent excitement, but he wasn't quite as enthusiastic about toothbrushes as Castiel seemed to be. Eventually he found the right cassette and soon the buzzing was drowned out by a very familiar guitar riff.

After a few songs had gone by Dean turned off the music to fill Sam and Castiel in on their chat with Cayden and his mom. Sam asked a few questions but Castiel went suddenly quiet and said nothing more for the rest of the journey. Dean started to think he was making a mistake bringing the former angel along. For a moment there he almost seemed happy, and now Dean was going to toss him into the shark pool, emotionally speaking. He wasn't ready… but they had to deal with the angels, and the angels weren't going to wait for Castiel to be ready.

Dean pulled off the road onto a dirt track and pulled up when the trees became too thick to drive through. The evening air was cooling as they got out of the car and looked to the trees. It was darker beneath their boughs, the leaves high above blocked the fading light.

The brothers went to their cache at the back of the car. As they loaded up on weapons and holy oil Dean took a moment to ask about Castiel in a hushed voice.

"Was he okay?"

"Yeah, he was absolutely fine. Had a bit of a moment when we went past the pet shop… he got a bit emotional about the caged birds, but otherwise he was fine".

"Really? You're sure?"

"Yes Dean, you think I'd forget him flipping out and attacking the pet shop owner or something? He was happily distracted with shopping the whole time. Maybe that's what he needs - distracting. Something to take his mind off all the crap, wallowing is the worst thing".

"Well we're about to launch him into a load of crap right now. Facing an angel… you think he can handle that?"

Sam paused a moment too long, giving Dean his answer without saying a word. "I… don't know. But he's strong Dean, you know that much. And one way or another he'll have to deal. The fallen angels have changed the world, this isn't going away, and we've got to do what we can…"

"I know… I just wish I could give him time to wrap his head around everything".

"Time is a luxury we very rarely have". Sam gave a pat to Dean's shoulder. "Come on. Let's find this angel before the feds do".

The two of them found Castiel and Crowley talking softly by the tree line. Dean absently wondered what they were talking about… tips on redemption maybe? After a short discussion they decided to split up to cover more ground - Castiel with Dean and Crowley with Sam.

The woods were not terribly deep, but the trees grew close together and thick vegetation made it difficult to walk through. Occasionally they would come across small paths made by animals pushing through the undergrowth. Dean kept his eye out for paths that looked like they were made by children building dens… A rustle of leaves caught their attention more than once. They gave chase to one, and came across a cat. Dean swore at it while Castiel apologised for disturbing its hunt.

Eventually the trees thinned out. Then Dean realised they were in various states of decay. The further they went on the more dead trees they found until eventually Dean and Castiel were surrounded by nothing but brittle bone limbs reaching for the sky. The vegetation at their feet was browning and dry, it crunched as the pair ventured forwards. It almost seemed like something had sapped the life from the very air, it was heavy and cloying to take in. The only sense of warmth this place had was given by the last rays of sunlight filtering down through the bare branches. They lit up dust motes that lazily drifted like fairy dust in the air, only to be disturbed and swirled about as the two men passed through.

At the centre of this impromptu graveyard stood a structure haphazardly built from branches. It was chaotic, but reasoned, with sturdy branches offering support and thick ferns serving as a roof. Of course they had been reduced to brown frail sticks, dead, like everything else. A small, bright red, plastic chair stood outside in stark contrast to the washed out colours of the world around it. An abandoned bike with one wheel sat rusting to one side. This place was unmistakably a den.

Dean pulled out his phone and called Sam. "Hey, we've found it, if you head… Cas, hey Cas! Come back!"

He quickly rattled off approximate directions and chased after Castiel. The former angel had continued creeping along while Dean stalled at a safe distance. He wanted them to tackle this together, but apparently Castiel had other ideas.

A small voice called out as they neared the den. "Liam?"

"It's not Liam, but we're friends. We're coming in". Dean answered.

Castiel stopped at the den's entrance and ducked a little to look inside. Dean stepped around the red chair and peered over his shoulder. A huddled figure in a dishevelled suit was hugging his knees at the back of the den. Discarded packets from chocolate bars littered the ground. At least Liam seemed to have been feeding him. More importantly the angel gripped a blade tightly in his hand. It wasn't being wielded to hurt; it seemed more clutched at for comfort. Angel blades were usually shining and silver but this one appeared dull in the half light. The angel himself had short black hair not unlike Castiel's, but his eyes were a dark brown and filled with fear.

"Where is Liam?" He asked with a shaking voice.

"He'll be back soon. We've just come to keep you company". Dean ventured, not sure exactly how to go about dealing with this fallen creature.

"I want to talk to Liam…"

The angel seemed to have latched on to this kid like a baby bird imprinting on its mother.

Then he raised his eyes to Castiel and squinted. "Brother?"

"Yes…" The former angel answered cautiously.

"Castiel?" The angel's eyes widened. "I did not recognise you at first, with a soul…"

The former angel looked down at the ground and swallowed heavily before meeting his brother's eyes again. "Forgive me brother, I can no longer see you. Will you give me your name?"

"Lastor".

"Then I am sorry Lastor. I didn't know… I didn't mean for any of this…" Castiel held his hands out and made to step forwards. Dean stopped him by putting a hand to his shoulder.

The fallen angel looked at Castiel in confusion. "Metatron did this, you hold no blame. He has also taken from you but he has left you crippled and blinded. We were cast down, but you… Oh Castiel, you have been maimed far worse than I".

Lastor looked up at Castiel with such compassion it was heartbreaking. To see an Angel of the Lord brought low, sitting in the dirt of a dead grove, turn his own eyes down on Castiel… It made Dean realise how far his friend had fallen. That he would elicit sympathy from this creature so ruined himself…

At first a weight seemed to have lifted from Castiel as Lastor freed him of blame. But the burden of his humanity came crashing down on his shoulders. Castiel looked away again. Dean lightly pulled the ex-angel away, taking this as his cue to step in.

"Okay Lastor, if you come with us we can help you. But you're going to have to put the blade down first".

The fallen angel just held on to it more tightly.

"I won't hurt you, I give you my word… Please, it is all I have left".

"We're not going to keep it, we'll give it back to you".

"Castiel, I followed you, I went to war for you. Will you not speak for me?"

Dean turned to Castiel with a questioning look at this revelation. "This true?"

The former angel nodded. "It is. Lastor fought with me against Raphael… he stood by me… he can be trusted".

"Okay…" It went against the grain to let a potential threat stay armed, but for Castiel's sake he would let it go. "I'm going to need to know what you can do. Clearly you could tell who Castiel was, have you still got your powers?"

At that Lastor's eyes darkened. "I can't fly… I can't heal… It is as if the light of our Father's grace has left me. I can still do this…"

The fallen angel's voice trembled as he took a handful of leaves from the ground at his feet. Lastor held his palm out and suddenly it all ignited. Dean took a step back. Shadows leapt about the den at the bidding of the fire dancing in Lastor's hand. His eyes mirrored the small flame, shining and reflecting its light.

"… I can still destroy. That is all he left us… the darkness". Lastor closed his palm and the flame died, taking the shadows with it.

A quiet moment passed before Castiel spoke. "You fell as Lucifer fell…"

"Yes brother… and so I am given only the hatred and malice of his heart". Lastor turned sad eyes on Castiel again. "At least I have been left with something".

"You may yet wish for nothing when the abyss is all you have…" Castiel tilted his head to one side.

If Castiel was still an angel Dean would swear they were talking telepathically with the intense staring going on between them. A rustle from outside broke their reverie. Sam and Crowley had finally caught up.

Dean pulled gently at Castiel's arm. "Let's go".

Instead of moving aside and letting Dean grab Lastor, Castiel stepped forwards and extended a hand. Dean watched carefully, readying to pull the former angel away should Lastor lash out with his blade. There was no need to worry though. Lastor took the offered hand and gingerly got to his feet.

As they emerged from the den to find Sam and Crowley standing in the dying rays of sunlight Lastor suddenly shrunk back. "What is that abomination doing here?! Castiel, have you betrayed me?!"

Dean caught on quickly. "It's okay, Crowley is cured, he's as harmless as the rest of us".

"He's telling the truth, I promise you I am no longer the demon you knew of before". Crowley came towards the fallen angel and held out his hand. "Nice to meet you…?"

"Lastor…" He took the hand warily, but shook it all the same.

"Then welcome to our motley crew Lastor. We will help you in any way we can".

Dean shared an amused smile with Sam at how quickly Crowley was integrating himself into the good guy camp. Castiel had handled the situation well to boot, Dean had been braced for another breakdown. Things were looking up; maybe their luck had finally changed…

_But as the five made their way back to the Impala an unnoticed figure watched from the trees, eyes longingly following after "his angel"._

-oOo-

Back on the road Lastor was now sandwiched between Crowley and Castiel on the back seat. Dean watched his reactions through the rear view mirror as they plied him with questions.

"What do you remember?" Sam asked.

"Not much… I was flying, I think to Syria. Though I can't recall why… I remember my wings burning, I remember the moment I stopped flying and started falling... And I remember _his_ voice, his petty vengeful voice in my head…"

Dean noticed Castiel squirming at Lastor's words.

"Okay, that's enough for now, story time can wait until later". Dean would save the former angel from reliving his own memories if he could.

They drove on in silence until Dean started playing with the radio. Every station he tuned in to was filled with warnings and speculation on the angels, so he gave up and started fishing for a tape. Sam suddenly sat up, eyes on the mirror at his side.

"Hey Dean, looks like we've got company…" Sam twisted in his seat to get a better view.

Dean looked in his own mirror to find a police car coming up fast. It drew alongside the Impala and the officer in the shotgun seat pointed to the side of the road. Dean swore and pulled over, there was no point in running, he was sure he could talk his way out of this.

So he wound down his window and put on a winning smile. "Problem officer?"

The first officer approached Dean, while the second went to peer through the back window, hand hovering on the gun at his hip.

"Mind telling me what you're doing out here son?" The officer took off his sunglasses and placed them in his breast pocket.

"Mind telling me why you've pulled us over?"

"I ask the questions here boy". Dean noticed the other younger officer straighten up and give a nod to his partner. "In any case, I got information that says some boys like you got into a car like this, with one of those angel folk. And well I'll be damned, apparently he looks just like one of your passengers. Now I don't believe in coincidences. You know you're supposed to turn them in don't you son?"

"Of course I do". Dean dug in his pocket to pull out his badge. "We're FBI. I'm Agent Ragsdale and this is my partner Agent Steinhardt".

Sam reached forwards to show his own badge. A broad smile suddenly graced the officer's face… Undeterred Dean continued. "We're taking these men into custody. I'm sure you understand this business is classified, so if you could please move aside and let us carry out our duties…"

The officer still grinned, to Dean's confusion.

"Ragsdale and Steinhardt right? You boys got your fiddles with you?" He laughed and leaned against the car. "Too bad you were pulled over by a Kansas fan hey? You might have gotten away with it otherwise. Get them out Rick".

The younger officer knocked on Castiel's window. "Sir, could you please step out of the vehicle?"

Dean put his hand to the door and suddenly found a gun in his face. "Not you. First we're going to secure your little friends, and then we'll get you out for a chat about why you're giving lifts to angels".

They seemed to be assuming the three in the back were all angels… which wasn't that far from the truth.

"Sir?" Officer Rick prompted again.

Dean looked back at Castiel, he was about to tell the former angel it was okay. Just get out and they would sort everything… but he noticed Lastor's blade changing hands.

"Cas! No!"

Castiel flung his door open and brandished the angel blade. "Leave us! Get in your car and drive away!"

He went towards the officer, threatening but not attacking. Rick had stepped back and pulled out his own weapon. Before another word could be said Castiel collapsed to the floor, convulsing with taser barbs embedded in his shoulder. The blade dropped from his hand and clattered across the road. After an endless moment the former angel stilled.

"Stay down or I'll give you another shock".

Of course Castiel tried to push himself to his hands and knees.

The officer pulled on his trigger, and this time Castiel yelled as he went down. The first time the shock seemed to take his breath away, this time he knew it was coming…

"Hey! Leave him alone! He's done nothing, he's an innocent!" Dean growled at the officer by his window.

"He just attacked my partner with a knife! Don't you know these things are dangerous? Now I've been told to bring them in alive, but I'm authorised to use lethal force if I have to…"

"Cas… stay down man. Let me talk to them". Dean reluctantly shouted out to the former angel.

Castiel's eyes were half closed, he breathed in hitched breaths. And then he dragged his arm up and placed his palm against the asphalt.

"Give him a drive stun Rick, we haven't got all day".

Rick shot his partner a questioning look, but the officer just nodded towards Castiel insisting he move in. Rick approached and placed the taser against Castiel's side before triggering it. The former angel's eyes flew open and he screamed in pain. That was the last straw. Dean pushed the car door open, but before he had a chance to open his mouth the butt of the officer's gun met his head with a crack.

Apparently it was the last straw for Lastor as well. The world was spinning into darkness, but the last thing Dean saw was the fallen angel emerging from the Impala, hands outstretched and glowing.

And then, before his senses failed completely, Dean heard the piercing sound of a gunshot.


	5. Chapter 5

Note**: **Well I've finally finished. I've got ten chapters and an epilogue coming up for you, and angst, bucketloads of angst :D So in celebration, and because I'm suffering comic con spoiler excitement, here's the next chapter... Besides, I couldn't leave you on that mean cliffhanger XD Enjoy!

All my love to reviewers, followers and favouriters too. You make this worth writing :)

**Chapter 5**

His head was pounding, but it lay on something soft. The metallic tang of blood hung in the air, and the copper taste on his tongue told him it was his own. Something was pressed into the side of his head… it hurt.

Then a voice... "We need to find another car, every cop in the state will be looking for ours".

A name came to him. Sam. It was Sam.

Time to try opening his eyes… He didn't want to. The darkness was freeing, almost comforting. Something told him he didn't want to wake up, he didn't want to face what was happening out there. It was safe here in the darkness.

"That one over there, I don't see any one around".

His eyelids were so heavy. He managed a flicker…

"I think he's waking up".

Another voice. Crowley? What was Crowley doing…?

They came to a gradual stop and a door slammed, the sound ricocheted painfully around his skull.

The soft thing beneath his head shifted and the pressure lifted with a sticky sensation. Then suddenly Dean remembered a gunshot and his eyes flew open. He looked up into Crowley's face. At finding his head being cradled on Crowley's lap Dean shot upright. The stab of pain and flashing lights assaulting his brain had him back down in an instant.

"Easy, that copper gave your skull a good crack". Dean realised the pressure came from a wadded up shirt that Crowley was pressing to his wound.

"G'nshot… Cas?" His lips felt like rubber, and his tongue didn't want to cooperate with his addled brain.

Still, Crowley knew what he was trying to ask. "He got Lastor with a shot in the arm. Castiel was okay… well as okay as you can be with thousands of volts running through your body".

"Whres S'm?" Words felt heavy in his mouth. It was a struggle to get them out.

"Getting another car, the cops called for backup. They'll be looking for yours".

The door opened to Sam's harried face. "Okay, we're up and running, let's get him out".

"He's sort of… half conscious. Was asking about Castiel and you, or trying to".

"Dean? Can you hear me?" Dean felt Sam's hands beneath his shoulders.

"Mhmm"

"We're just going to move you to the new car. We'll get Cas back, he's going to be just fine".

Between the two of them they managed to get Dean out of the car and on his feet. He leaned heavily against Sam. His brother held on to him with one hand and held the keys out with the other… Held the keys out? Wait… he was giving the keys to Crowley?!

"They'll probably be coming along here soon… It'll be better for them to be out here chasing you than back at the station where we're headed. If it's a chase they want then give them a chase, just try not to get her beat up too badly. Hell will be a picnic compared to what Dean will do to you if you hurt his baby".

"M' car! Dn't let hm tke m' car!"

They ignored Dean's inarticulate protests.

Crowley took the keys as if he were being entrusted with the Crown Jewels. "What about Dean… you can't take him with you like that. He needs to recover".

"He'll be fine. He bounces back from injuries like nothing you've ever seen… You know I would give him time if we had any. I'm guessing once Lastor and Cas are back at the station the FBI will come for them. They could end up halfway across the country, and they'll be much better guarded than they will at a yokel police station. We have to strike now".

"Good luck then…"

"And to you… give us as long as you can, but don't stop, and if you have to lose them then lose them. We'll meet you back at the bunker".

"Or the police station if this all goes tits up".

"Hey, stay positive. We'll be seeing you soon".

Sam hefted Dean into a better position and made for the new car. Although 'new car' was quite an oxymoron, it was an old Ford of some description. Half the paintwork had flaked away revealing rust spots here and there, but it looked like it was originally white. The interior was similarly well worn, but at least Sam had got it going. He lowered Dean into the shotgun seat as gently as he could.

Dean concentrated and fought through the fog of his mind to take control of his tongue. "You're letting Crowley take my car on a _police chase_?"

"Yes… how are you feeling? At least you're speaking properly now". Sam got in the driver's seat and pulled the door closed.

"I'm feeling sick now I know what's happening to my Baby…"

"I'm sure she'll be fine, unless Crowley starts driving on the wrong side of the road". Sam snuck a grin at his brother.

"Don't even joke about it dude".

"Seriously then, how's your melon? We're going to be storming the police station and I need to know if you can hold a gun the right way around".

Dean checked his wound out in the mirror. "Well I've got one hell of a headache, but it looks worse than it is. Everything's falling back into place".

"Good. Just promise me you're not going to face plant over the sheriff's desk".

"I'll do my best".

-oOo-

The police station was a small rural affair. One patrol car sat in the lot, and the trail of blood leading from its door told them it belonged to their officer friends from earlier. The others must be out chasing Crowley.

Sam and Dean parked the car up out of the way and approached on foot. They systematically checked through the windows, trying to keep out of sight as best they could. It didn't take long to locate everybody. A few of the offices were occupied, but luckily most of the station seemed to be empty. The custody area held four cells, their occupants were just out of sight, but the two officers were standing in front of the bars. Rick had his gun at the ready while the older officer wielded his taser. To one side sat a middle aged lady working her way through a mountain of paperwork on her desk, she kept glaring at the two officers.

"I can't see, but they must be in the cells". Sam whispered to Dean.

It was a warm day and the window was cracked open. They could hear what was going on inside… but on the flip side they had to be very quiet in case they were heard themselves.

"He's starting to twitch, let me in". The older officer's voice filtered through the window, followed by the whine of a cell door opening and a shout of pain.

It sounded like Cas. Dean tensed with anger and made to get up, but Sam glared at him and put a finger to his lips.

"I wish you wouldn't do that". The lady's disapproving voice reached them.

"We have to keep them unconscious. That's what we've been told".

"You've got a tranq gun with enough juice in it to knock a bear out for a week. Why'd you have to keep shocking the poor boy?"

"They're not boys Alice, they're things… we don't know what they are. People are calling them angels, but have you seen what they can do? They can burn with their hands - this one tried it on us. Angels are supposed to be good aren't they?"

"Emmett if you actually read the bible instead of sitting in church asleep every Sunday, you'd know angels could destroy this town with nothing more than a thought".

"Yeah, well, I don't believe they're angels… maybe they're aliens, I don't know. The sooner the FBI take them apart and work out what they are the better. Oh… looks like that last one didn't take, I'll give him another".

A longer scream broke through the window.

"_Emmett_, what if they _are_ angels hm? What do you think God is going to think when he blessed us with the presence of his children and you sat there shocking them over and over?"

"I'll get the tranq gun…" Rick got up and made to leave.

"Thank you Rick, at least someone in this station has a lick of sense".

"Oh Alice, stop being over dramatic. God didn't put these things here any more than you did… Anyway, have you got news on that Impala yet?"

"They're still in pursuit. I've got every available patrol on it".

"Nice car, driven by a dick though. He's typical of kids these days, thinking they can sass an officer. Anyone being cute with me gets a pistol whipping, he learnt that the hard way… I'll have some fun when they bring him in".

Dean had heard enough. He pulled back and took Sam with him. "So what's the plan? You create a distraction and I'll go in for them? We could start a fire and wait for everyone to evacuate…"

Before Sam could answer a van pulled up with the FBI logo emblazoned across the side. The two quickly dived around the corner of the station and watched as a couple of agents jumped out and made for the door. Another couple went to the back of the van and waited.

"Shit! We need to move _now_. Once they're in that van we've had it".

"Dean, we're seriously outnumbered here, and a fire isn't going to spread quickly enough…"

"Isn't there an alarm we can trip or…"

The station door burst open and the agents carried out Lastor between them. His legs limply scuffed along the dirt, and he had a sack over his head. They could tell it was Lastor by the blood saturated clothing he wore. The officers came out with Castiel moments later; he was similarly prone and blinded by a sack. Both were cuffed and trussed up like animals.

"I told you we only have space for one more. When you called it in you said you had one, not two. Now take him back inside". One of the agents rounded angrily on Officer Emmett.

"I want them both out of my station Agent. I called back when the situation changed; they obviously neglected to tell you that".

"Be that as it may I am still at full capacity. I'll take this one… he looks like he needs medical attention that he clearly isn't getting here. There's another collection van just over the state border. It'll be with you later today, possibly tomorrow".

"That isn't good enough". Emmett's anger was bubbling away beneath the surface. "What am I supposed to do with him?!"

"Keep him sedated, and wait".

Another agent stepped forwards with a needle and some tubing. They lay the two fallen angels down and inserted a cannula into Lastor's arm, then Castiel's.

"This is all we can do for you right now". The agent bent to inject something into Castiel. Then he straightened and showed Officer Emmett three injections. "That'll keep him out for a good long time, but if he starts coming round give him one of these. Don't let him wake up. Believe me… you do _not_ want one of these awake".

The officer near enough snatched the injections out of the agent's hand. "I've seen what they can do".

"Oh you haven't seen the half of it my friend". The agent smiled insincerely and turned back to the business of loading up Lastor.

The back of the van opened up to reveal a row of restrained angels. It was reminiscent of Guantanamo. Dean growled and pushed forwards, only to be pulled back by Sam.

"Wait". His brother urged in a hushed tone.

Dean knew it was madness to go out there and tackle four agents and two officers in a police station parking lot. But anger was burning hot through him. He wanted to go out there and let his fists loose.

The van doors slammed shut and the agents got in. The one who had been exchanging verbal barbs with Officer Emmett gave a derisory "Officers" and a faux tip of his hat before leaving.

The officers watched until the van was out of sight. It faded away into the dust cloud left by its tires.

"Goddamn FBI scum!" Officer Emmett yelled and turned to lay his boot into Castiel's side. "Think they're so high and mighty…"

With that kick Dean snapped. He pulled out his gun and broke from his hiding place. Sam followed straight after; he knew his brother would have his back.

"Get away from him! Hands in the air!" Dean shouted, not wanting to give them a chance to reach for their weapons.

Being taken by surprise, the officers complied.

"Oh it's you, the smart mouth angel loving kid". Officer Emmett smirked.

"Sam, check him".

Sam went forwards and pulled the sack off Castiel's head. He looked a little worse for wear, with his hair wild and dark shadows beneath his closed eyes. Sam placed a hand to Castiel's nose to check his breathing, and then he laid two fingers to his neck.

"He's good… he's breathing, pulse is strong". He frisked the officer for his keys and released the former angel from his bonds.

"What now? Are you going to run? You won't get far". The officer snarked at them.

"Sam, do the honours". Dean kept his gun trained and unwavering on the two officers.

Sam knew exactly what his brother was talking about. He went over to the patrol car and started unscrewing the caps from the tire valves. A gentle hissing sound filled the air as they deflated.

"Oh I think we'll out run _you_ at least". Dean returned the officer's smirk.

After tossing the caps away Sam went to restrain the officers with their own cuffs. He pulled them over to the car none too gently and secured them to the back door handles. The air near enough turned blue with curses.

With that done Dean finally put his gun away and helped Sam to pick up Castiel. As they retreated back to the car all they could hear was the bellowing voice of Officer Emmett.

"Alice! Alice you get your ass out here right now!"

Dean sincerely hoped Alice was hard of hearing.

-oOo-

Finally the brothers pulled up outside the bunker and got Castiel out of the car between them. His head lolled helplessly onto his chest. It made Dean angry, seeing what had been done to his friend. But at this moment there was an overwhelming sense of relief flooding through him. He had come so close to losing Castiel. It was bad enough having Lastor taken away, but Lastor was a part of the puzzle they were trying to work out. If Dean lost Castiel he would be losing a part of himself. The former angel was family now and they had become entwined with each other, just as the roots of two trees entangle beneath the surface, unseen and unspoken, but strong.

There was something else to lighten Dean's heart - Sitting there gleaming, as perfect as ever, was the Impala.

"Baby! And she's in one piece… Maybe Crowley's a better driver than I gave him credit for".

But as they shuffled past the Impala the driver's side of the car was revealed and Dean's face fell. There was a dint in the door, and a spatter of blood against the usually spotless interior. "Shit…"

A few dull red drops led towards the bunker. They hurried inside as fast as they could and found Crowley at the table, a wad of towels pressed to his shoulder, with a few more soaked through and scarlet at his feet.

He raised his eyes and offered a wan smile. "They uh… got a bit close, took a shot and winged me".

"Geez… good to see you're alive and kicking. Is the bullet still in there?"

"I believe so". The former demon's voice was laced with pain.

"Okay, lets get Cas lying down then-"

"It's alright, I'll do it" Sam cut across his brother. "I've got neater stitching anyway".

"Hey… where'd you practice? Dress making class?" Dean gave a sly grin and took more of the ex-angel's weight as Sam left.

"Bite me. Now go and sort your…" He was about to say 'angel' before he realised his mistake and stopped himself. "Go and sort Cas out".

With that Dean turned to leave. Crowley's voice echoed after him - "I'm sorry about your car!"

-oOo-

Once again Dean found himself with a stripped down unconscious former angel of the Lord on the bed. This time Castiel had a few more bruises… Dean said one or two choice words about the parentage of the officers involved while he pressed along each rib, feeling for breaks. On finding none he went to change the former angel's bandages. Some of the stitches had bust in the fracas, so Dean redid them and wrapped him up in gauze again. Throughout Castiel never even moved a muscle. They must have given him some heavy duty stuff. Gently Dean took Castiel's arm and carefully removed the cannula the agent had put in. He placed his finger over the well of blood and waited. His eyes wandered over Castiel's features, the former angel looked so old and worn… and small. He seemed so diminished from his angelic self. It was as if somebody had taken him apart and put him back together with all the vital bits missing. _Somebody had_… Dean thought. _Metatron_.

The blood had stopped running, so job done Dean took to his chair, standing vigil. There was a certain irony in watching over the former angel who once watched over him… They would have to be more careful. Amongst other things Castiel had no ID, fake or otherwise, and he dealt with people like Rain Man did. It would be easy for people to jump to conclusions. But then Dean thumped the arm of his chair with annoyance – he shouldn't have to protect Castiel from the world. He should be showing his friend the best humanity had to offer. How was he ever going to adjust to being human if he kept ending up here bloody and broken? The ugly face of humanity had shown itself… he could forgive Castiel for never stepping foot outside again.

As time passed and Dean stewed, Sam appeared at his shoulder, wiping his hands on a towel. "Is he okay?"

"Still out… didn't even twitch, think he'll be unconscious for a while yet. You get the bullet out of Crowley?"

"Yeah, there was a lot of shouting and swearing, I guess it's been a while since he's had to feel pain like we feel pain… but I got it".

"Good, at least we can avoid a trip to the hospital…"

They both watched Castiel's chest rise and fall in a quiet moment before the pressure of the case at hand fell on them. Sam was the first to cave in…

"So it looks like the FBI are rounding up the angels. Question being, where are they taking them and what are they doing with them?"

"Nothing good I'm guessing… did you see the back of the van? Looked like friggin' Guantanamo".

"Yeah, Cas had a lucky escape".

"No thanks to us. We shouldn't have taken him".

"You can't keep him in here locked up safe forever Dean…"

"I know, it's just… we should have been more careful at least".

"Woulda, shoulda, coulda. What's done is done; we can only be more careful next time".

"I guess… we'll have to make him some ID at least. Geez, it's like bringing a new pet home, what else do we need? Anti possession tattoo, jabs, something to stop him chewing the furniture?"

Sam gave a hollow laugh. "Okay, we can get on it tomorrow – start research, hit up our contacts, and book Cas in for a neutering. Right now I'm going to get some sleep, and I suggest you do too".

"Alright… quit your nagging, sweet dreams bitch".

"Don't let the bed bugs bite jerk".

Sam left, but Dean stopped with Castiel a little while longer. He was hoping to talk to the former angel and see what state of mind he was in. After all that had happened he didn't want Castiel waking up and going for a knife again. But the ex-angel showed no signs of stirring; he probably wouldn't wake before morning, so reluctantly Dean left his side.

-oOo-

While Dean loved having his own room, there was a part of him that missed waking up to a crack of sunlight shining through ratty motel curtains. There were no windows down here. There was no sunlight, no sky… no way to tell the time unless you looked at a watch or clock. It almost felt like there was no time. No day or night passing away outside. This world was a hidden constant beneath the earth and they were the only changeable things about it.

And so no sunlit glow told of morning's arrival, instead a soft scratching sound reached Dean's ears. It pulled his mind from the places amid the places where you are neither asleep nor awake, but drifting between the two. It took a moment for his thoughts to coalesce and place the strange sound… Relief flooded through Dean when he realised what it was.

"Cas, don't scratch your chest". His muffled voice chastised through the pillow.

"But it is irritating". Thankfully Castiel's voice was filled more with annoyance than desolation.

"It'll be even more irritating if you pull out the stitches and I have to redo them. Irritating for both of us that is". Dean rolled over to face the former angel.

Castiel was in his usual spot, hunched in the bedside chair. He had no shirt on, and the bandages were bright white against his pale skin. There were no spots of blood; the stitches seemed to be holding. But Castiel's hand wandered up almost without his noticing. Dean reached out to bat it away.

"Dude, what did I just say?"

The former angel blinked as if coming back to himself. "I'm sorry, the irritation is… overwhelming".

"I know, but if you're man enough to bear the pain, you're man enough to take a little itching".

Castiel raised his arm, realised what he was about to do and dropped it again.

"So, how are you feeling? Besides itchy I mean".

"I'm fine".

"Yeah, because I'm always fine after I get shocked by some dicks and the FBI nearly kidnaps me… You can talk to me Cas".

"I _am_ fine. I don't really remember much after the initial… shock. I would rather keep it that way".

"Right, well if you ever do need to talk, you know where I am".

"You're in bed… at the moment anyway".

"Yes, I am…" Dean wasn't sure if he was just being Castiel or attempting sarcasm.

"What of Lastor?" The former angel frowned with concern.

"He was taken… The FBI got him".

Castiel's head bowed and his hands gripped the arms of his chair. "It's my fault; I should never have attacked… It was another wrong choice, dear God am I not capable of making a right one?"

"Hey… stop with the blame, and isn't that taking the Lord's name in vain or something? Seriously, you weren't to know that would happen. In fact if anyone's to blame I am, I should have brought you back here before going after Lastor. It was too risky taking you out and about…"

"No, coming back would have wasted time, and Lastor may not have gone with you if I was not there. Besides, I don't want to hide from the world Dean, I've got to live in it". That last line was said somewhat distastefully.

"You'll do a better job of living in it when we prepare you for living in it. To start with we'll get you some ID, an anti-possession tattoo, and we'll teach you to shoot. Sound good?"

"Yes Dean… I think I would like that".


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

The days turned into weeks and progress was gradually being made on the angel problem. Attempts at finding angels had ended up as little more than games of cat and mouse with the authorities. Most had already been captured and any remaining were quickly turned over if discovered. Checkpoints had been set up and people grew suspicious of each other… There was an ugly side to humanity that shunned anybody different, whether by race, sexuality or other perceived slight against the norm. Now the angels had become victims. The shepherds of humanity became their murderers. But now the tables had turned and the shepherds were at the mercy of their sheep. The lucky ones were held until the police arrived, the unlucky ones were beaten, shot and worse. Some angels lashed out, which made people even more paranoid and willing to shoot first ask questions later. Groups formed that were little more than lynch mobs, and naturally innocents suffered. Angel hunts were the new witch hunts, and the homeless, destitute and poor became the unintended hunted.

After liaising with other hunters Sam and Dean had discovered the FBI were taking the angels to detention centres around the country. Little was known about them, these places were heavily guarded and impenetrable to a couple of hunters with fake badges and an air of confidence. They would need to coordinate and create a more involved plan if they wanted to get inside.

As for the angels themselves, it seemed they could die. After more than a few shooting incidents it became clear they would eventually go down. But they wouldn't go down without a fight. The angel's powers were all over the place, some could burn with a touch like Lastor, others had increased strength, or other ways to destroy… but none could heal or fly. They could pull fabric apart, but not knit it together. Castiel thought it probably was down to the angels being cast out like Lucifer. The light of Heaven was no longer theirs… and being lesser than the Archangel Lucifer they were weaker, killable.

Castiel was spending a lot of time in the bunker's shooting range. He had gotten his tattoo as well, exactly where the Winchesters had theirs of course. The brothers had each spent some time showing the former angel how to wield a gun, and now he considered it his duty to practice every spare minute. It was as if he still saw himself as the guardian angel. He couldn't smite so he'd learn to shoot perfectly. And every morning Dean woke to Castiel in the chair at his bedside. Despite Dean's protests about it being creepy the ex-angel continued to watch over him.

After a bit of digging the boys came across a hunter who knew somebody who knew somebody who might be able to crack things tech-wise on a detention centre raid. The nearest they had discovered was in Nevada, so they arranged a meet up. It would take about a day to drive over there, maybe longer if they had to divert and avoid checkpoints. While Castiel now had his fake ID, they would rather not have to put it to the test…

Crowley was still healing, so they left him in the bunker, manning the phone and the books. At first he spluttered at realising he was becoming the new Bobby, but he soon acknowledged Bobby was a good man and it was an honour to step into his shoes. The former demon promised to drink less too.

And so the boys took to the road. They had to double back on one occasion to avoid a checkpoint, but the journey was mercifully uneventful. After passing over the border into Utah Dean suggested finding the nearest motel for some shut eye. They were well into the small hours and he was feeling it. The next motel with vacancies they came across was the Sunset Stay, but they could only get a room with two beds… Castiel said it was okay, he would sleep in the chair.

When Dean woke the next morning Castiel wasn't in the chair as he expected. The former angel was heading for the door.

Dean shot up. "Where the hell are you going? And why have you got my wallet?"

"I was going to purchase some breakfast for you". Castiel looked back at Dean innocently.

He almost felt a dick for responding so harshly. "Okay… but not on your own you're not. Give me a moment".

Dean jumped out of bed and went to get ready. Castiel frowned slightly at him.

"Dean, I am capable of purchasing breakfast by myself".

"Sure you are, but it's not safe for you out there".

The former angel's people skills still weren't up to snuff. Dean wasn't sure they ever would be. But one wrong word and things could go downhill quickly. They were strangers in a small town here and would be regarded with suspicion at the best of times. Now people had a reason to be suspicious.

Leaving a note for Sam the two of them left their room and headed for the motel door. Castiel walked a few strides ahead of Dean, seemingly begrudging being protected by the one he was meant to protect. Then he rounded a corner and walked straight into a police officer.

"Morning Sir, mind if I take a look at your ID?"

Castiel momentarily shot a panicked look back at Dean. Dean gave what he hoped was a reassuring nod. It was too late to run now. A sudden vision flashed before his eyes of Castiel being cuffed, led away, and taken for experiments by the FBI. Dean couldn't risk losing the former angel again… His muscles coiled, readying to launch an attack should the fake ID fail.

The officer's partner was at the front desk. Dean overheard her asking if they could knock on a few doors and check ID… they had reports an angel had fallen in the vicinity. Dean hardly dared breathe as he watched Castiel fumble for the fake driver's licence they had made. He pulled it out and gave it to the officer with a slight tremble of his hand.

After scrutinising the card the officer stared hard at Castiel and handed it back. "Okay, thank you Mr Milton"

They had given him the name "John Milton" at Sam's suggestion. His brother found it ironically humorous to name Castiel after the author of 'Paradise Lost'. Not that Dean knew anything about it, he was just eager to avoid rock band personnel after their last police encounter. After letting out the breath he'd been holding Dean quickly readied his own licence for inspection.

The officer examined Dean's ID and gave him a nod, letting them both go. They made a very hasty exit, jumping into the Impala, and screeching out of the parking lot.

"See! I told you it wasn't safe". Dean couldn't resist the obligatory 'I told you so'.

"It isn't safe _anywhere_… How far do I have to go to be safe - the North Pole? Or maybe there will be penguins out to get me…"

Dean couldn't quite believe Castiel was being sassy with him. "Did you just make a joke? And it's the South Pole where penguins live; there aren't any at the North Pole".

"Yes, well it was more an attempt at sarcasm… and your penguin knowledge astounds me".

"No wonder Uriel was the funniest angel in the garrison if this is all he had to compete with…"

Further down the road Dean pulled in to a grocery store. Castiel seemed eager to use what little independence he could get and he set off down a far aisle.

"Look out for pie!" Dean shouted after him.

Despite their encounter with the police he was content to let the former angel go. It was a small family run grocery store, he couldn't roam far, and how much trouble could he possibly get into?

Enough. That was the answer.

Dean picked up a basket and had barely put a six pack of beer in it before an almighty crash came ricocheting down the shop. He dropped the basket and ran the short distance to find Castiel looking freaked out and a shop assistant clutching the former angel's arm. The display the young man was putting together had fallen. Brightly coloured cans rolled across the floor around them.

"Get off me boy!" Castiel shook his arm, but the assistant wouldn't be dislodged.

"Human? A human? Is that what you take me for? Is that what you see?" His voice was desperate.

Castiel's expression softened as realisation dawned on him. He stopped trying to pull away. "Are you an angel?"

"Yes Castiel, how are you so blind? You know my name, tell it to me".

"I can't…"

The angel frowned at Castiel, not understanding, then he looked at the ex-angel… _really looked_, almost seeming to stare through him.

"I am sorry brother, I didn't realise… My name is Jophiel".

The sharp clack of a shotgun being cocked echoed down the aisle then. Instinctively Dean reached for his own gun, but he stalled on seeing it was an elderly lady behind the trigger. She held the gun so it pointed at the floor, less dangerous, but still threatening.

"We got a problem here boys? Joe, you okay?" She looked at the angel with concern.

"No, Ivy, everything is fine". Jophiel finally dropped Castiel's arm and turned to face the woman.

"Well I'm sure there's a good reason for my canned tomatoes being all over the floor, and I'd like to hear it". Despite her small stature Ivy stood firm.

Castiel just continued talking to Jophiel as if she wasn't there. "Come with us. We have a place where you will be safe".

"Excuse me, I've got the gun here, you talk to me". Ivy raised it a little to emphasise the point.

So Dean stepped in. "I'm sorry to disturb your shop like this ma'am, but we know what he is, and we can help him".

"I don't know what you're talking about. This is Joe, my nephew from out of town. He's come to help me with the store; I'm not as young as I used to be".

"Yeah, I'm sure he is… Do you know the police are here? Do you know they're looking for an angel?"

"Well they won't find one, there aren't any angels around here are there Joe?"

Jophiel opened his mouth but Dean cut across him. "You're putting him at risk! You're putting yourself at risk! The FBI are taking them all and you know as well as I do they're not exactly going on a trip to Disneyland".

Before Ivy could reply Jophiel managed to get a word in. "I want to stay here".

"I'm sorry?" Dean rounded on him with disbelief.

"Ivy has been good to me, she has shown me such kindness… I owe it to her to stay. And we have been cast out - _all_ of us - there is no way back lest Metatron wills it. If we have to carve out a new life for ourselves on earth then I will do so here".

"If those police officers catch up to you there won't be any kindness…"

"They will not catch me, they cannot see, and I will give them nothing to look at".

"Brother…" Castiel whispered. "Will you not reconsider?"

"I have made my choice, and I am content with it".

"Very well". Castiel put a gentle hand to Jophiel's face and met his eyes. "I hope you've made the right one".

The former angel broke away and pulled Dean after him.

"Hold up". Ivy cracked her shotgun open. "Take what you came for boys, it's on me".

-oOo-

When Dean and Castiel returned to the motel room laden with breakfast, Sam was more than happy to see them.

"Thank God! I was worried; the police came knocking at the door earlier. I thought you might have run into them".

"We did, quite literally. Cas' ID held up though. And we've been chatting to Jophiel the grocery store angel".

"… what?"

"Looks like the angel the police are after was taken in by the shop owner. He recognised Castiel".

"And why didn't you bring him back with you?"

"He didn't want to come. Says he'll make his new life here pretending to be the shop owner's nephew. Well, good luck to him I say".

"Sounds like he'll need it… Anyway while you were out Ray called. We've got a little detour before the meet up. He found a collection van heading to Nevada, but the hunters tailing it had to drop back. It should be passing near here soon so he'd like us to take over, and if we can get close enough to put a tracking device on it even better".

Sam went over to the table and pulled up a map of the area on his laptop. "They'll have to take a pit stop soon, the last hunters didn't see them fuel up. So that would be a great place to catch them… Thing is, there are three possible garages they could stop at".

Dean's face fell as he pointed them out on the map. "So what do we do? Pick one and hope for the best?"

"I guess so… Ray sent Danny out to this garage here, Alpha. But he's got quite a drive, we're not sure he'll make it in time. We're probably best off checking out Beta".

"Sounds like a plan… a crappy plan, but at least we've got one. And what kind of garage names are those?"

"Code words - Alpha, Beta, Gamma. Ray came up with them. I would say he's paranoid and half crazy like Frank, but you know… we're dealing with the FBI here, better safe than sorry".

"Okay, let's hit the road Scully".

-oOo-

It didn't take them long to arrive at the Beta garage, which was actually called "Gayle's Gas". They set up in a spot far enough to be inconspicuous, but close enough to give a clear view of all the traffic pulling in. And they waited.

They waited.

Then they waited some more.

"I think we've got the wrong garage, have we still got time to check out the other one?" Dean shifted impatiently.

Sam's phone rang.

"Hey Ray… sorry, Knight Rider… yeah… okay, we'll get right over there". He put the phone back in his pocket.

"Knight Rider? Dare I even ask what code name you've got?"

"Please don't… Anyway, Ray wants us to head over to Alpha, he lost contact with Danny".

"Shit, hope he hasn't got himself caught".

Without a second thought Dean pulled away and put his foot down on the gas.

As they drove along a trail of thick black smoke marred the air on the horizon.

"We'll that doesn't look good…" Dean deadpanned.

The closer they got to the garage the stronger the smell of burning became. Even though the windows were up it became overwhelming. Eventually they arrived at a cordon and were told to turn back. Dean just turned around and pulled up somewhere out of sight. They could proceed on foot.

The three of them tied shirts around their faces to try and keep out the fumes, and then they crept along, using thick bushes to conceal their presence. Though they could probably have gone right out there, for chaos rained, they had walked into an inferno.

"Shit…" Dean's muffled voice came from beneath his shirt.

The garage was on fire. The flames roared so loudly it was hard to hear. Emergency personnel ran every which way, shouting to each other, directing vehicles, and shepherding the wounded. Several fire trucks directed a spray of water onto the blaze. They might as well have been trying to put out the fires of hell with a straw. The garage was completely engulfed. The scorched skeletal outline of a building was barely visible amid the flames.

Waves of heat rolled off the blaze. Even standing at a distance from the fire Dean felt rivulets of sweat running down his forehead. The fumes worked their way beneath his shirt and started to irritate his lungs. It was time to go… If Danny was here he was most certainly dead. The FBI van was probably burnt to cinders too.

But then Dean felt Sam's hand on his arm. He turned to where his brother pointed at a couple of people choking in the grass. They were off to one side down a slight verge and seemed to have been missed by the paramedics. At least they could help save some lives today.

"Come on" Sam pulled Dean over and Castiel followed close behind. Between the three of them they managed to half carry half drag the couple over to an ambulance.

That got them noticed. A police office ran over, arms outstretched. "You have to move back!"

And so the three of them complied, this was one situation where they could do little to help. Monsters and demons they could handle, the raw force of nature behind a fire they could not. Solemnly they made their way back to the Impala. Dean dialled Ray's number when they reached her and were safely inside.

"Dean? What have you got?" He sounded hopeful.

"I'm sorry Ray… it's on fire. If Danny was there he couldn't have survived that".

Ray was quiet for a moment before speaking again. "Last thing he said to me was that they had arrived… Then the phone went dead and he wouldn't pick up again. I thought they might have got him… I would never have imagined…"

"I know. You think one of the angels they were transporting did this? You got any info on the van?"

"All I know is the FBI were transporting one angel thought to be highly dangerous".

"Well they think the angels are all highly dangerous don't they?"

"This one more so than the others. I didn't pick much chatter up, but he's stronger than the rest. He has killed, and they thought he would kill again. That's why they were transporting him to Nevada - better detention facilities. He probably woke up and started swinging".

"Great, so now we've got a psycho angel on the loose… Okay, call us if you dig up anything else".

Dean put the phone down and sighed.

"Psycho angel?" Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah… apparently they were transporting a really dangerous angel. It looks like he busted out at the garage and torched the place".

"We can track him down. It shouldn't be too hard to find an angel if exploding garages is his M.O."

"First things first let's find a motel, I need a shower. Geez, Baby's going to stink for weeks…"

-oOo-

They hadn't been driving long when a motel sign loomed large ahead. Dean eagerly followed it; he didn't care what the motel was like as long as it had a working shower. The stench of the fire felt as if it had settled into his bones and he would never be rid of it.

Castiel suddenly bent over and clutched his head with a shout of pain.

"Cas! What's wrong?" Dean yelled, watching the former angel through the rear view mirror.

It only lasted a moment, and then Castiel straightened. He looked at Sam and Dean as if he had just seen a ghost. "It was him".

"Who? The angel?"

Slowly the former angel nodded with a wince. "… He tried to speak to me".

"Well, what did he say? And how is that even possible?"

"He can probably sense my presence, but not that I am graceless… so he tried to speak to me as angels speak to one another". Castiel looked away, eyes downcast. "I can't really engage like that any more… so he forced it through me, which probably accounts for the pain".

"Sorry dude…"

"As for what he said… '_Freedom. Join me_'. Nothing more".

"An angel of few words then. Still, they don't sound good. What do you think? He's rallying the angels to him? He'll fight against humanity and do the whole Lucifer thing?"

"It is a possibility". Castiel's grim voice came from the back seat.

"Wonderful. That's all we need, Apocalypse – the Sequel". Dean pulled up outside the motel and scrubbed a hand over his face. "Okay, shower first, track down psycho killer angel second… and somebody please find me an air freshener or twenty for Baby".

-oOo-

They had assumed a psycho killer angel would be making waves wherever they went. They assumed wrong. It seemed the angel had gone to ground, everything was frustratingly quiet. The trio made calls, searched through papers, and tried all the usual ways of tracking monsters down. They found dead end after dead end.

The only lead they had was Castiel. And it was not a helpful lead. The angel kept trying to contact him. It was the same every time… a spike of pain, and a variation on the same words. _Join me. Freedom. Escape. Fight_. Nothing they could use… Being human Castiel could not respond. He only seemed to be getting fragments of the message the wayward angel was trying to force through his head.

"If only we knew his name… praying to him might at least get us contact, and he might reveal something… That's if prayer still works". Castiel contemplated dismally as he paced the room.

"Well if angel radio is still online, I'm betting prayer is too". Dean was sitting back in a chair, leafing through the morning paper with his legs up on the table. "Can't you just send out a general all angels prayer?"

"I don't think that would be a good idea… It would alert _Metatron_". Castiel spat the name as if it were poison on his tongue.

"Okay, note to self: stop saying your bedtime prayers. You got anything Sam?"

Sam was tapping away on his laptop, attempting a hack of the local police database. "Almost there… just give me a few".

"Well I got bupkis". Dean folded the paper back up and threw it on the table. "All I found was a house fire, and that looks like it was started by nothing more sinister than a microwave. I'm guessing our mystery angel didn't fancy calling in on those folk for some fast food".

Castiel came to rest looking over Sam's shoulder, before he migrated to the bathroom doorway. He looked around the room and paced across to Sam again.

"Dude, would you sit down? You're making me dizzy". Dean wasn't used to the former angel being so antsy.

"I just…" Castiel struggled to explain himself as he made his way to the bathroom doorway again. "… Walking helps. Maybe we should look into the house fire anyway. It could be an attempt to cover up…"

Castiel tailed off as his hands went to his head again. Dean didn't make a move or say a word. They had been through this a few times by now. It only lasted a few moments and the ex-angel was always fine afterwards.

But this moment stretched out. Castiel hissed and dug his fingers into his head.

"Cas?" Dean was starting to get concerned.

He jumped to his feet and was by the former angel's side just as he collapsed against the door frame. Dean held Castiel up with an arm under his shoulder.

"I can't!" He suddenly shouted. "I can't! Get out!"

"Cas, you're okay. We're with you, it'll stop in a second, he'll leave you alone…" Dean tried to keep his voice calm and reassuring, though his heart was hammering away, not knowing what was going on inside Castiel's head.

And as suddenly as it started, it stopped. Castiel's hands fell away, his rigid frame relaxed, and his quickened breath eased off.

"What was that all about?" Dean helped him over to the bed.

"He was angry… so angry". Castiel's voice was a hoarse whisper.

"And what did he say?"

Castiel winced as he dropped down heavily on the side of the bed. "It was fragments again… _Answer me, no time, respond_… I told him I couldn't, but my words wouldn't reach him".

"Whatever he's doing, sounds like he's getting desperate. That can't be good".

"Maybe not, but it might force him to show his hand at least". Sam turned back to his laptop and resumed typing furiously.

"You okay Cas? That looked like a rough one".

"Yes, I…" Castiel's eyes went unfocussed, his words stalled and he fell back on to the bed.

Convulsions suddenly shook the former angel's frame. With a shout of his name Dean rushed forwards and tried to restrain Castiel's flailing limbs. Sam immediately dropped what he was doing and went to help.

"Shit! What the hell is this? Cas!"

The former angel was deathly quiet as the fit wracked his body. The uncontrollable shaking seemed to last a life time and then Castiel stilled. The brothers released his arms and moved back an inch, giving the ex-angel some space. He lay spread eagled atop the bed, limbs thrown out haphazardly. But what worried Dean the most was his eyes… they were wide open, and unmoving, just staring at the ceiling, seeing nothing.

And then Castiel's cracked lips opened and one word came out.

"Murder…"

He spoke in a detached dead voice that sent chills up Dean's spine. It sounded like somebody else. That wasn't Castiel. Castiel wasn't so cold and empty and lost… That word, that voice… there was no feeling in it. It was drawn out and hollow, spoken without conscious thought. And it scared Dean.

A trickle of blood ran from the former angel's nose, and he spoke again.

"Murder…"

His unseeing eyes and voice from the void transfixed Dean. What the hell was going on? What had the angel done to Castiel? Why was he talking like this? And why was he talking of _murder_? Dean feared the angel had tried pushing too much on Castiel and his mind had broken beneath the strain.

"Dean…" Sam's soft voice broke Dean from his thoughts. Something soft was pushed into his hand. Dean blinked and looked down to find a tissue.

"Oh… thanks". Dean gently wiped the blood from Castiel's face, leaving a red streak across his cheek.

Dean went to wipe at it more firmly but his hand stalled as the former angel's mouth opened.

"Murder…"

Once the sinister word had passed Castiel's lips Dean moved in with the tissue again.

"Cas? Can you wake up for me?" There was no response… Dean looked to his brother. "This isn't right, this is-"

Without warning Castiel shot up, arms fishing through the air, grasping at nothing. He gasped at the air as if he'd been drowning and then he exhaled with a scream. Dean tried to take hold of him and keep him still, but the former angel slid from his grip and fell back down. He lay on his side, loose as a marionette with its strings cut.

Castiel's eyes were still fixed, but they seemed to lock on to Dean, and he spoke with that hollow voice again…

"They will burn".

And as Dean sat stunned, staring at Castiel's lifeless eyes, awareness gradually crept back into them. Dean could almost pinpoint the moment Castiel became Castiel again. His eyes were his own, only now they were full of fear…

"I know where he is".


	7. Chapter 7

Note: The quote is from "Attack" by System of a Down.

**Chapter 7**

_If we fall, we all fall  
And we fall alone_

Castiel sat perched on the edge of the bed, Dean by his side. They gathered the angel had graduated from words and sent out images, which Castiel was unable to cope with. The former angel seemed spooked, so Dean placed a hand on his shoulder, grounding him, reassuring him.

"Can you tell us what you saw?" Dean ventured.

Sam had gone back to his laptop, readying to hunt down a location as Castiel revealed it. He sat turned towards the ex-angel, watching with concern.

"Death… so much death. They will come together with love and comfort in their hearts and he will murder them".

"Where? What did the place look like?"

"It was an arena, with space for thousands upon thousands. There are walls of glass, and flags stand outside". Castiel frowned, seeming to sift through images in his mind. "Look for white snow tipped trees… no, blossom, not snow. They're in lines, all around… and it stands by a lake of salt".

That last piece of info gave it away. "Salt Lake City. Sammy?"

"On it". Sam started tapping away at his keyboard.

It didn't take long for him to pull up a likely location. "This looks like the one, Temple Arena. It's glass fronted, there are the flags, and it has trees too. Let's see what they've got coming up in 'Events'… Ah, 'Faith for the Fallen' looks like there's some inter-faith cooperation going on. All the denominations are gathering together to praise the Lord, thank him for sending his children to earth, and pray for guidance".

"And our angel is going to barbeque them all… So when is it?"

"Tomorrow".

"You're kidding? We've hardly got anything of today left!"

"It'll only take a few hours to drive over there. We can do it".

On thinking it over Dean gave in to his brother's optimism. "I suppose… it's not like we haven't flown by the seat of our pants before. Cas-"

"I'm coming". The former angel cut across Dean.

"I wasn't going to ask you to sit on the bench. I was just going to ask if you'll be okay facing this guy".

"Oh… I believe so. He has not intentionally harmed me; on the contrary, he seems to be requesting my aid. I think I will be safe enough".

"You might find that changes when you roll up with a gun and the Winchesters in tow".

"Nevertheless, I'm coming".

"Okay then, let's lock and load".

-oOo-

Although it was 'tomorrow' it was still dark when they arrived at the arena. They had a good few hours before people would start coming in for the event. Most were probably still in bed. The car park was near empty at least.

The three retrieved their weapons from the trunk and made their way towards the arena. Its glass front reflected the city's lights giving the impression of a wall covered in fireflies. They would have to look around for a loose window… but before they got any further somebody stepped in to block their path.

"Jophiel?" Dean asked, confused.

"You know him?" Sam looked across at his brother.

"Yeah, this is the grocery store angel…" He still had his apron and name tag on '_My name is Joe, how may I help you?_' Dean directed his next question at Jophiel. "What the hell are you doing here? I thought you didn't want to leave your 'Aunt'?"

'Aunt' was said with judicious use of air quotes… and then Dean noticed the angel had red rimmed eyes.

"I can't let you enter. Castiel, you are welcome, but the Winchesters are not".

Castiel stepped forwards, defiant. "They go where I go".

"I can't let them enter". He said again, despondently.

"What happened Jophiel?" Dean approached, standing side by side with Castiel. This was not the manner of a righteous angel, firm in their belief, and ready to smite in a second. This was a cowed spirit, saying what he had been told to.

It took a moment for Jophiel to speak again. He looked at the three of them warily, as if scared a thunder bolt might strike him down. "He found me… he asked me to join him, and I refused. He did not accept my answer as graciously as you did".

"What did he do? Is Ivy okay?" Dean asked guardedly.

"No… She is ash, along with her shop, and my sanctuary".

"I'm sorry to hear that… but what are you doing here? He burnt everything down and you just went along and followed him?" Dean couldn't help but ask in a rather incredulous manner.

"Where else was I supposed to go? Who else was I supposed to follow?" Jophiel's eyes were suddenly angry.

"Well, how about fighting back? You don't just fall in with the guy who murdered the only woman to show you any kindness… And you don't follow anyone; you make your own way in the world!"

"How? I was not as lucky as Castiel to fall with the Winchesters by my side…"

Dean sighed. "Okay, look, we'll help you. Come with us, and we'll see you right. For now it's best you stay out of this, just go sit in the car, Sam will take you".

"Over here". Sam held his arm out, indicating where they'd parked the Impala.

"Sam, we'll look down the West side for a way to get in, see you inside".

But Jophiel held back before following Sam to the car. "There are two more of my brothers in there. Nuriel will be happy to leave… Sachiel may not be".

"Okay, we can deal with that… and it's a big place, where's head honcho going to be?"

"Look below the arena. He seemed to like lurking down there".

"Thanks Jophiel, we'll see you real soon".

-oOo-

By the time Sam joined Dean and Castiel they had managed to break in. The three followed long corridors, looking for a way to the basement. There were no signs… the general public wouldn't need to know how to get down there. Eventually Dean pushed open a door onto the main arena. It brought them out half way up the bottom tier of seats. Dean pointed down to a tunnel that led out onto the floor. It looked like the place was used for sporting events too, and that's where the teams would emerge. It was a step closer to the basement anyhow.

They made their way down. A stage had been set up on the arena floor, microphones and lights stood dormant, waiting for their big moment. Dean looked up at the surrounding seats. There were so many the audience must look like ants to the performers… He imagined himself as a rock star, belting out raw vocals to the scream of guitars and thrumming bass. So this must be what it was like for Metallica… except they had roaring crowds singing along, not empty seats and a quiet arena. You could hear a pin drop...

Castiel pulled on Dean's arm, breaking his reverie and hurrying him along.

"Okay, dude, I'm coming…"

"Not fast enough". The former angel huffed.

After making their way down the tunnel the three of them switched on flash lights and started trying doors. Some were clearly signposted… changing rooms… dressing rooms… Others were more mundane, like closets filled with cleaning supplies. They came across an area where some building work was going on. Tools and machinery sat lying around while tarps hung, still in the dead air. There was a large hole in the ground, fenced off with warning signs. Of course, that wouldn't stop Dean. He pulled them out of the way and peered over the edge.

"Hey, over here! Looks like they're putting in some new stairs or something…"

While there was a hole down to the next floor the stairs had yet to go in. The materials were stacked to one side.

Castiel came to join Dean at the mouth of the hole. They shone their flash lights around, finding more tarps and building paraphernalia. It looked to be quite a drop.

"If we-"

Dean didn't get to finish, somebody shoved him hard in the back. They got Castiel as well, judging by the way he was propelled forwards at Dean's side. Their arms wheeled through the air, seeking purchase and finding none as they spun into the black depths.

They hit with a thud, tarps breaking their fall only slightly… Flash lights flickered, strobing weak light across the wall, and Dean's vision whirled.

"I think I found the basement…" He managed weakly before passing out.

-oOo-

Somebody patted his cheek.

"Wake up, please… you have to wake up".

Dean cracked his eyes open to find a concerned blue pair staring down into his own.

"Cas?" He managed to croak. Then as his vision started to coalesce Dean noticed this pair of blue eyes had dirty blonde hair… but Castiel was the only other to fall down with him.

Confused Dean struggled to snake a hand out to one side. It hit something solid. He tilted his head to find Castiel's messy black hair and tightly shut eyes beside him. So who was…?

Then Jophiel's words came back to Dean… _There are two more of my brothers in there_… The angels. Shit.

Dean fought to get up, and was surprised to find the angel's hands helping him.

"Careful… you had quite a fall".

"Not as bad as yours... Which one are you then?" The swimming world and Dean's swimming thoughts were righting themselves at last.

Dean noticed Castiel at his side, beginning to stir. And Sam, a little further away. Whoever pushed them must have tossed Sam in afterwards. A spark of anger lit up Dean's heart.

"My name is Nuriel".

"And who pushed us down? Jerkiel?" Dean scowled.

"No… that was Sachiel". Of course Dean's snark flew right over the angel's head. "He is not entirely enamoured with humanity".

"You said it…"

As Castiel's eyes opened he let out a groan, and Nuriel's gentle hand flew to his cheek. "Brother… I am so sorry to see you so broken".

"I wish you'd all stop feeling so sorry for him. He might be less than you are, but at least he still fights. He doesn't roll over for the next angel with a plan and a Lucifer complex".

Dean huffed as Nuriel looked at him with hurt eyes.

"Sammy? You awake?" Dean scooted over to his brother and helped him up.

"The angel… watch out…" Sam muttered muzzily.

"Yeah, we already got there Sammy. Catch up". Dean gave him a pat on the arm and then tried to heft his brother to his feet.

Above them lights flickered on with a hum.

Nuriel had helped Castiel up, they both looked to the lights, one with horror, one with confusion.

"You have to hurry, we are out of time! They are coming!" Nuriel near enough shouted at the brothers.

Dean's face drained of all colour. "How long were we out? The event's starting already?"

"Yes, people are coming in to take their seats. You have to stop him".

"We have to get these people out. Sam, get this place evacuated, pull an alarm… do whatever you have to. Nuriel, can you go with him, get him up top?"

"Yes, but it is highly likely that Sachiel will try to stop us".

"Then you stop him, there's two of you. Are you an angel or a mouse for God's sake? Sam, if this guy can't be reasoned with don't hesitate to shoot. We've got thousands of people flooding into this place right now, we can't afford for an ass clown angel to mess things up. Me and Cas will go after Douchiel".

"Are you sure you can handle it? He's meant to be stronger than all others…" Sam frowned with concern.

"Don't worry. There are two of us too, we can take him". Dean gave his brother a cocky grin and wished him luck before they went their separate ways.

-oOo-

The basement was a lot less intimidating with the lights on. They weren't that powerful, and they were spaced apart leaving shadows between, but they were enough.

Dean and Castiel had their guns out as they stalked down the concrete corridor with purpose. Until the corridor came to an end and split left and right in opposite directions…

"Shit… this is like every horror movie cliché you could ask for. But we have to split, we haven't got time… Wait, I know, I'll call you. We can be with each other apart on the phone, if that makes sense… Anyway, any problems and we'll know straight away".

Dean dialled Castiel's number. The former angel picked up.

"Hello Dean".

"Yeah… you don't need to say that, I'm right here".

"Oh… okay". He took the phone away from his ear.

"Just stay on the line, tell me what you see, and I'll do the same. If you find him don't do anything, just watch him. I'll come over and we'll tackle the guy together. You take left, and I'll take right. Stay safe".

Dean clapped Castiel on the shoulder and went on his way. A light flickered ominously in the distance. Dean took a deep breath and told himself Castiel would be fine. If he entertained that little seed of doubt he would find himself flying back down that corridor before he could stop himself.

After walking a short way Dean raised the phone to his ear and spoke in a hushed tone. "Testing, testing, one, two, three… You hear me Cas?"

"Yes". The former angel's voice crackled down the line. It was a bit faint with them being so far down.

"Good, so nothing to report so far…"

"I'm looking in a storage room. There is a rat investigating a discarded coffee cup… now it's running away. It went under a crate".

"The storage room rat adventures are thrilling Cas, but I don't really need to know all of that…"

"Okay".

The line went quiet for a while, Dean worried.

"That isn't to say you should stop talking altogether. Look, here's an example. I'm heading for a bathroom…" Dean pushed the door open to reveal a rather grotty affair. This clearly wasn't where the main stars went. "All clear".

"Why would the angel hide in a bathroom?"

"I don't know Cas, because it's the last place he would expect us to look for him?"

"I don't think he's hiding… I think he's waiting".

"You're probably right. Cocky dick angels don't need to hide do they?"

"I'm…" Castiel's voice faded out. "… dead bird".

"What Cas? I lost you for a second".

"I said I looked in another storage room, and there was a dead bird".

"How on earth did a dead bird get down there?"

"It was a canary, in a cage, with its eyes open… they looked a bit wrong".

"Oh… probably a prop, stuffed by a taxidermist". Dean made a little sound of disgust.

"Why do humans do that?"

"I don't know… it's probably people wanting to hold on to their beloved pets or something… It's creepy".

"It doesn't make sense, why would you stuff an empty vessel for display when the soul has long departed? I hold affection for you Dean, but as an angel I would never have kept your vessel after death and stuffed it to put on show".

"Well, that's great to hear, and also very creepy. Do me a favour and don't ever say that to me again… So animals have souls too huh?"

"Of course, humans are basically animals, highly evolved ones but animals all the same".

"Okay… we'll have to chat later, I'm going quiet for a minute".

Up ahead Dean had noticed a room with its lights on. There was a window looking in, and so he crept up as quietly as he could. It was a large space with soft mats on the floor… possibly some sort of rehearsal room, though his view was partially blocked by stacks of staging. Dean put his hand to the door and opened it slowly, not wanting to give himself away… Chances are he would find nothing but rats in here, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

Sure enough Dean found the room to be empty, although there was a doorway at the back that seemed to lead through to more storage space. Beyond the doorway another light flickered, abruptly dying and returning to life. Dean raised his gun and made his way over. He hurried across the mats, the open space made him feel exposed, but at least they muffled his footsteps. A musty scent hung in the air; it was the sort of staleness a room gathers with disuse. Dean guessed it had been a long time since any rehearsing had been done down here. He pointed his gun around the corner, and made his way further along on finding it clear. The space opened out to a room with more staging around the walls, dripping pipes overhead, and a man kneeling, facing the wall. His hands were clasped in front of him, and Dean could hear him talking under his breath. The broken bracelets of handcuffs hung from each wrist. The man wore a bright orange prison jumpsuit and his dark, lank hair, was softly curled with neglect.

Dean backed off into the rehearsal room and put the phone to his ear. "Cas? I found him. Cas, can you hear me?"

There was no response, Dean looked at his phone and cursed at finding his reception non-existent. He tried dialling Castiel again with no luck. Hopefully the former angel would come looking for him…

Dean started waving his phone around, hoping it would pick something up. He moved back to the door leading out on to the corridor, and mercifully a bar of signal lit up. Dean punched in Castiel's number and relief flooded through him as it started to ring.

"Cas you son of a bitch, pick up". Dean hissed.

And then he gasped at feeling a knife thrust into his stomach. At the same moment he was grabbed from behind. The angel pushed in against him, one hand on the blade, and one hand pulling Dean's head back.

"You were told not to come". The angel whispered harshly into Dean's ear.

-oOo-

Dean found himself dragged through to the back room. The angel dropped him unceremoniously on the hard ground. Pain lanced from the knife embedded in his flesh. He tried not to cry out… not to show weakness… The angel frisked him over for weapons and tossed them to one side with little thought. The knife had been left stuck in Dean… and the angel was close enough to strike at. Dean's hand went to pull the knife out… he didn't worry about bleeding to death; he could get medical attention before dying. Probably. His only thought was for taking this son of a bitch out and stopping him from burning them all to a crisp.

The angel simply batted his hand away as he checked around Dean's boots for more weapons. "Leave it".

Instinctively Dean's hand went back to the knife. This time the angel grabbed Dean's wrist and wrenched it. Something cracked in Dean's arm and he couldn't help but cry out.

"I said_ leave it_".

"Why? Why not let me just bleed out and die now?" Dean managed to growl out.

Dean began to regret his defiance as the angel slid over to kneel by his face. The angel peered down, taking Dean apart with his eyes. They were as blue as Castiel's, but cold, hard, and bloodshot. It left Dean feeling vulnerable… a mouse caught between the unforgiving paws of a cat.

"Suffering". The angel replied simply.

"What do you mean? Why are you doing this? _Any_ of this?"

"Suffering… it is an art to humanity". The angel took a firm grip around Dean's broken arm and squeezed. He waited for the scream to end before continuing. "I had not experienced pain before falling. I have experienced a great deal since… Do you know what it is to be alone Dean Winchester? I suspect you have no idea what it is to be alone, truly alone, so that your every breath is like a scream in your ears. On waking I found myself alone in a junkyard. I have never been so alone… from the moment of our creation we are connected to Heaven, to our brothers and sisters. I awoke to silence amid the detritus of humanity. And then the silence was broken by a savage bark. A man set his dogs on me, and so my first shaking steps on this world were more harried and violent. They bit me when I stumbled. But I found men more savage than any animal…"

The angel got to his feet and circled around Dean. "I fell at the feet of the first human I came across. He took me in, but offered cruelty, not kindness. He beat me…" The angel gave a hefty kick to Dean's ribs. "He burnt me with cigarettes…" A finger reached forwards to scorch Dean's skin. "And then his friends paid a visit and did so much more…"

He came to rest where he started, kneeling by Dean's head. Dean flinched, expecting a blow, but none came… the angel just stared at him. "I don't know how long I was there, but I was saved. Their door was kicked down and in came men with suits and guns… They restrained me and sedated me, and eventually I came to regret being saved. I suppose they were curious, but curiosity breeds the worst kind of savagery. We were cut open, tested on, and patched up, to start again the next day. The rooms echoed with the screams of my brothers and sisters. In the isolation of my cage I scraped back enough awareness to concentrate… and I found I could communicate with my kin. Like wasted skills my powers came back to me, and so I visited their own savagery upon them. God created humanity, you started out so perfect, and you have become this… Not even the beasts of this world have sunk so low. Why am I doing this? Because you don't deserve to live. Lucifer was right, and we have been cast down as he was cast down… so I will arise to take his place".

Dean fought against the pain radiating through his body to give an answer. "These people are innocent, they don't deserve to die!"

"God condemns you all as sinners for daring to be born. If he can condemn humanity, so can I".

Dean's voice grew quieter. "You must still have some faith in him… to be praying back there. I saw you".

The angel scowled. "I would not waste my time on God. I was praying to Metatron. Showing him how we suffer… He wanted stories, and so he will be given stories to weep over".

"You're not going to win here, you know that right? Sam and Cas are still out there, they're going to stop you".

"Your brother poses as much of a threat as you do. And my brother would be wise to join me…"

"He won't, I'm telling you that now". Dean growled through gritted teeth.

"What other cause will he follow when you are dead and gone? Castiel is a murderer at heart. Do not be fooled by his single minded affection for you… He has killed many in Heaven and on earth".

"_That wasn't him_".

"Oh it was, it was more him than you know. After all, how long have you known Castiel? To you it is years, to him it is but the blink of an eye. You should have seen him in Egypt…" A small smile graced the angel's lips. "I don't quite understand why he is so attached to you… Your rescue was an order, nothing more. Yet he was so proud to have carried it out. You know he shouted '_Dean Winchester is saved_' so loud we all heard it, even the fallen".

The angel ripped open Dean's shirt at the arm. "He was so excited he even marked you".

His hand covered the scar Castiel had burnt into Dean's skin. "When you die, and it will be soon, you will die as mine".

A searing pain cut across Dean's arm as the angel started to burn his own handprint over Castiel's.

The click of a gun cocking echoed around the concrete walls. "He belongs to no one".

Dean could have cried with relief at seeing Castiel, standing strong with his gun aimed and ready.

"Step away from Dean and give me your name". He ordered.

"My name? Do you not see me Castiel? I stand before you plain as day…" The angel took a moment, and then he looked at Castiel as all the others had done. As if he was peeling away all the layers of skin and bone with his sight. "Oh my brother… so that is why you didn't respond to my call. Metatron has left you blind. He will pay, for you and for all of us. Once we have taken this world and returned to power we will tear him down and take your grace back, this I promise you… He is but one angel hiding behind the walls of Heaven. Now hiding is his forte, but he cannot hide forever. I have a mind to use the forces of hell too - they once belonged to Lucifer and may fall in with us… Together we can assault the gates of Heaven, and one way or another Metatron will fall. Will you join me brother?"

Castiel stood firm. "Give me your name angel".

"Auriel, now what do you say?"

"I will not join you Auriel. I would rather see you dead than walk in Lucifer's footsteps beside you".

"Why? What is it about humanity that you hold so dear? These creatures are filled with hate; they inflict suffering on each other and the world, even in our father's name. This world that has been given to them… they do not deserve it, they are not worthy of paradise!"

"You are wrong brother… they are not all alike. There is pain and suffering, but there is courage also. There is hope and the will to change in their hearts". Castiel looked at his brother with pleading eyes. "… and I am one of them. They are _my_ people now".

"No Castiel, you were not born to die. You have been crippled, but we _will_ restore you".

Dean focussed through the agony enough to see Castiel waver. For a moment he wondered if the temptation of grace would sway the ex-angel. He wondered if the pull of grace would be stronger than the pull of humanity... of himself.

"I am human". Castiel still stood strong.

"I think you have walked amongst them for too long brother… you are no more human than God is. Look at you - that face you're wearing, that body you're occupying. It belongs to somebody else. What is his name?"

Dean could see the former angel's jaw clench, but he gave no answer.

"What is his name Castiel?" Auriel asked again and was met with silence.

"I asked you a question! Will you not have the decency to answer?" The angel suddenly roared.

"Jimmy" Castiel let the name reluctantly escape his lips with a small voice.

"And this Jimmy, did he have a wife? Children? Did he have a job? A life that you took from him? Tell me all about Jimmy; I would like to know his story".

Again the former angel said nothing; he just gave Auriel a wrathful glare.

"Tell me about Jimmy or I will pull the knife from Dean's gut and we can reminisce while his blood paints the floor red".

Castiel was quick to answer. "Jimmy had a wife, her name was Amelia, and his daughter was Claire. He made a living selling ad time for radio. He was a good man, and he was happy… until an angel asked him to prove his faith".

"So you see, Jimmy is the human. Maybe he's still scratching away in there somewhere. You were too blind to see me - maybe you are deaf to his cries too. But that is _his_ flesh you wear, that is not your face you see in the mirror each morning… You are not human, and they will never be your people".

"You're wrong… he took my wings… took my grace… there is nothing angelic left in me. I am mortal".

"Do you dare deny yourself? Do you still pretend to be human? You are an angel of the Lord. You are Castiel, angel of Thursday!"

"I am human!" Castiel shouted, although he sounded as if he was trying to convince himself as much as Auriel. "Now step away from Dean or I will shoot you!"

"Will you now? How good is your aim with that primitive human weapon?"

"Good enough". Dean could see Castiel's face drawn with intense focus.

"Are you sure about that? How much are you willing to risk?"

Dean felt rough hands on him then. They hauled him to his feet and agony wracked his frame. The world around him blurred as he screamed, he thought he heard somebody shout his name… When his senses righted Dean found himself being held tightly against the angel.

"You have a choice Castiel. Shoot me and risk shooting him. Or put the gun down". Auriel's fist twisted in Dean's hair as he held the hunter up.

"Take the shot" Dean's weak voice ground out. The angel gave his head a violent shake.

Castiel looked at Dean with such concern. His gun was still held aloft, unwavering, but the hesitation was in his eyes.

Dean tried again. "Take the shot Cas, he's going to kill us all anyway".

The former angel gave a small shake of the head.

"Interesting how you will put this human's life above all others… even your own". Auriel spoke as if he were a scientist discussing a specimen he was studying. Then his voice turned hard. "Make your choice Castiel".

Dean was willing him to do it. His life was in the balance either way… he might already be dead with the knife still embedded in his middle. And if Castiel put the gun down there was no chance Auriel would let them all walk away from this…

Castiel raised the gun and then Auriel raised a hand. He clicked his fingers and the lights went out with a sudden shattering sound.

"Without your angelic sight you are blind brother… will you put the gun down now?"

The darkness seemed to rush in and press against Dean, but it changed nothing. "Take the goddamn shot Cas!"

He couldn't see Castiel, and there was no sound from the former angel. He didn't answer. Dean felt he was moments from faltering and giving in… _take the shot, taketheshot, taketheshottaketheshot_… he directed his stream of thoughts at the ex-angel. All he could hear was the harsh breath of Auriel against his ear.

"Castiel". The angel said his name in a sing song voice that gave a horrible creeping sensation along Dean's skin. "Decision time… The longer you delay, the more I pull your human apart".

Dean felt the knife in his gut twist. A scream tore from his throat. And suddenly all hesitation evaporated. BANG.

He was punched in the chest… no, through the chest, and into the body behind. They fell. He couldn't breathe. Then the pain hit after the shock cleared a path. He could hardly think… only sensations registered… hurt, overwhelming hurt… warm liquid gushing… footsteps hurried over, he felt himself being pulled clear and then BANG. BANG. BANG. Shots echoed around the room, they bounced off the walls and crashed into him. He was deaf, he was blind, and he was dying. Hands pushed down on his chest, fingers pressed at his forehead… _I can't heal you Dean, I can't heal, I can't_… a desperate voice on a loop. He was dying. His last thought was of Sam and Castiel. He was dying, and all he wanted to do was tell them it would be okay. But his lips wouldn't move, and the feeling of hands clutching at his face faded away. This was it. They would be okay.


	8. Chapter 8

Note: I'm so sorry for leaving you on that cliffhanger for so long! I've had a bit of a disaster - my laptop died, and I didn't have my files backed up. I very nearly lost everything, including this fic, the next one I've almost finished and three chapters of The Hallowing of Pain finale o_o;; (if like me backing up is something you're going to do "tomorrow", do it _now!)._ Thankfully my hardrive is ok and my files have been retrieved, but my laptop's still off being repaired -_- (I've used my dad's computer to get this out to you, and the formatting ended up totally screwed. I've hastily redone it so excuse any errors). Lyrics are from Depeche Mode's "Precious".

**Ch****a****pter ****8**

_Th__i__ngs get __d__a__maged  
Th__i__ngs get __broken  
I __t__hought __w__e__'__d manage  
__B__ut __words __l__e__f__t __unspoken  
Le__f__t __us __s__o br__ittl__e  
There was so __littl__e __l__e__f__t __t__o g__i__ve_

His world was nothing… nothing and occasional rhythmic bleeping. Sometimes voices pierced through the veil, but they were whispers on the horizon, so far away he could hardly tell they were voices at all. They crept closer with time… but then a wave of oblivion would sweep over him and the nothing returned. Sometimes words coalesced from the muddy tone of the whispering voices… _s__t__ab__l__e_… _damage_… _co__ff__e__e_… he had the feeling some were important, and some not so important, but he was adrift and anchorless and the wave kept taking him away to nothing, where nothing mattered.

Eventually words formed sentences. But they held no meaning, they just were.

… _about __seven, __I __l__et __i__t __go and cr__i__ed, __but __you __found_ _me ano__t__her one __li__ke __t__he __aw__e__s__o__me b__i__g __b__ro__t__her __you __a__re…_

… _p__l__ease, __f__a__t__her, __you asked me __t__o __s__ave __h__i__m once be__f__ore, __w__il__l __you save h__i__m __f__or me now? I have…_

… _not__ f__ar, hasn't __been __li__ved __i__n __f__or a __l__ong __ti__me, per__f__ect __f__or __t__hem __r__ea__ll__y…_

But that wave kept taking him away. He drifted back once to hear somebody crying. He didn't know who they were or what they were crying about, he didn't really care. He drifted away again.

… _not __s__t__ab__l__e __enough __t__o move, __but __we __can't __keep __h__i__m h__e__re, __l__ost __paperwork won't __ho__l__d wa__t__er __f__or __m__uch __l__onger…_

… _I w__il__l __never ask any__t__h__i__ng __aga__i__n, __I want __no__t__h__i__ng __f__r__o__m you, __j__ust __he__l__p h__i__m. __Y__o__u wan__t__ed __a s__t__ory, __i__f __h__i__s ends, m__i__ne __end__s__…_

… _he's not __ea__ti__ng, __I __t__hought __you shou__l__d know…_

And then eventually voices were claimed by their owners.

… _and I don't __know __what__ t__o do any more. He needs you. I need __you…_

Sam. Sam needed him. The wave came, but Dean fought it with everything he had. It took him anyway.

One day he was drifting along and suddenly felt heavy, like he had weight and substance. Dean had grown used to floating along as insubstantial as the air. This was new… he could almost feel his body. He had fingers didn't he? They might twitch if he tried to move them. And so he tried, and he thought they moved, but nothing happened. Still… this time no wave came to take him away.

Dean grew used to his body again, and the ebb and flow of this place became more solid. The bleeping became more real, he could locate its source. It would be just to his right if he opened his eyes. That was the next challenge… opening his eyes. He was a pro at the finger twitch by now. Once he could have sworn he felt somebody touch his hand in return. But his eyelids were remaining stubbornly glued together… He felt the world passing by just outside, and he couldn't look out of the window. There was somebody with him in the room, he was sure… he could feel a presence, but they were quiet. If only he could reach out and touch them, cry out, somehow make them aware that he was aware. This place held a strange sort of comfort before. The not mattering, the not caring, it gave him peace. But now he was stepping closer to consciousness and he was piecing it all together… He had been hurt, badly. He must be in hospital, in a coma perhaps… and he wanted out. There was such a short distance between them, Dean and this nameless person at his side. Just an arm's distance… but his arm wouldn't cooperate. His soul was screaming out, why wouldn't they hear? Couldn't they hear? Please! Touch me! Talk to me! The few feet between them became a chasm that neither could bridge. To the outsider they must seem so still… but he was screaming. Was this person, so quiet on the outside, screaming as well? Did their silence mask a tornado within? They were here, they must care about him… or did they not care? Were they here through duty? Through guilt? Were they a stranger? Are you nothing to me?!

And then Dean felt a hand on his arm. The bed dipped a little as they leaned on it… the bed; he felt a bed beneath him, a soft pillow under his head. There were uncomfortable needles in his skin and a cannula at his nose, but he felt! The glue at his eyes seemed to crumble and fall away, gradually they unstuck and he blinked. He couldn't see. He blinked again. Shapes formed… with every blink everything became clearer. The person… black hair… a pale coat. It was Castiel. Castiel was with him. The former angel was sitting by his side just as he did every morning.

The ex-angel was wrapped in his crumpled trenchcoat and he stared at Dean with hopeful eyes. Dean tried to say his name, but his lips could only mouth the word 'Cas'.

Castiel's head dropped to the bed. For a moment it rested on his arms, they still held onto Dean. He seemed to collapse with relief. It was such a human gesture. Then he looked back up at the hunter with shining eyes.

"Hello Dean". It was said quietly, with a trembling tentative smile.

He was back.

-oOo-

Castiel spent a moment or two just staring at Dean before seeming to come to his senses. "I should get Sam".

The former angel left but before Dean had a chance to really feel his absence Sam came piling through the door. Had he been on his feet Dean was sure he would be in a bone crushing hug, but given his state Sam made do with gripping Dean's hand tightly in both of his own.

"You're awake! The doctor said…" Sam took a breath as his eyes welled up. "You had me so scared, thank God!"

Again Dean weakly tried to mouth his brother's name.

"It's okay, you're going to be fine. Don't try to do too much, just rest".

Then a doctor and a gaggle of nurses came into the room, and waved Sam and Castiel away. Reluctantly they stepped back to let the doctor do his work. The nurses bustled around, taking readings, checking lines.

By the time they were done Dean was so tired, but he didn't want to close his eyes again. He feared not being able to open them. The doctor went to talk to Sam in a corner while Castiel came back to his bedside seat and resumed staring at Dean. There was a hollow look to the former angel. Dean would worry if he wasn't fighting sleep with all he had… Sam appeared, seemingly from nowhere, Dean hadn't noticed him walk over.

"Sleep Dean, it's okay, we'll be here when you wake up. We're not going anywhere".

-oOo-

The next time Dean came to awareness Sam and Crowley were deep in discussion at the foot of his bed.

"I've spun them a paper trail as best I can, but they're getting suspicious". That gravelly voice unmistakably belonged to Crowley. "Misplaced paperwork and lost files don't take this long to sort out".

"I know… He's doing so much better, we might be safe to move him but I'd rather leave it a few more days. Can you give us that?"

"I might get a few more days out of a computer system break down… If they call again I'll do my best".

Dean tried opening his eyes again, and was pleased to find they still worked.

Crowley noticed and patted his foot. "Morning sunshine, it's good to see you back in the land of the living".

"What's wrong?" Dean said, or tried to say. His mouth felt like it was full of cotton wool, and he was sure it didn't come out right.

Sam tried to give a reassuring smile. "Nothing for you to worry about, just some questions being asked about your insurance cover… or 'Mr Newsted's' cover rather. You want some water?"

Dean gave a slight nod and so Sam came to sit on the edge of the bed and helped him take a sip. The cool glass touched his lips and he almost moaned in ecstasy. Water had never tasted so good.

"Where's Cas?" The water had helped; his words sounded more like words.

"Getting food, he'll be back soon".

Dean wanted to yell at Sam for letting Castiel go out and about on his own. But yelling would take up energy he didn't have. Two word sentences were about all he could manage at the moment. And they were rapidly using up what little energy he had.

"Anyway, I'd best be off. People to see, angels to babysit… you know how it is". Crowley almost walked right into Castiel as the former angel came through the door

with a brown paper bag clutched to his chest. Crowley held back in the doorway almost hovering as if he were waiting to watch a scene play out. Castiel pushed the bag into Sam's hands before taking his usual bedside seat.

Sam pulled out a burger and some fries. "Hey Cas, didn't you get anything? Do you want some?"

"No, I already ate mine". The former angel replied sullenly, turning his eyes to Dean as if he were making sure the hunter was still there and still breathing. Dean got the feeling he'd been doing quite a few of those checks of late…

He didn't miss the knowing look Crowley gave to Sam before leaving.

"Angels? Babysit?" Dean whispered, enquiring about what Crowley had said.

"Oh yeah, you've missed a whole lot. Crowley found this big abandoned house not far from the bunker. There were rumours it was haunted of course, but we went over it and there was nothing. We set up Jophiel and the other two angels there". Sam paused to take a bite of his burger. "I know, it's very 'Winchester's Home for Fallen Angels' right? But we couldn't have them all puttering around the bunker, and if we rescue any more there's plenty of space out there. Crowley's been great, he takes them supplies, sorts them with clothes, everything really. I've been… well, I've been here, so he's taken it on. I think he sees it as a sort of penance project".

Dean realised he _had _missed a whole lot. That wasn't the sort of thing you could get done in a couple of days. How long had he been out?

"How long?" Dean's voice was growing weak and hoarse again.

Sam reached forwards with the glass of water. He seemed to hesitate in answering. "You've been out for… um; it's been a few weeks. You were hurt real bad, between the gunshot, the stab wound and the broken arm. You're on the mend now, that's the important thing. We'll have you back home real soon".

Dean wanted to ask more questions. He wanted to stay awake… but his eyes seemed to close of their own accord. The last thing he saw was Castiel watching him as if he were frightened Dean would never wake up again.

-oOo-

Dean came round to a flurry of activity. Needles were pulled from his arms, and monitors were unplugged. The regular beeping they gave out had long ago passed into imperceptible background noise. Its sudden absence was jarring.

Sam came to kneel beside him. "Okay Dean, we're getting you out of here. I'll give you a shot of the good stuff and when you wake up you'll be back home in your room".

There was a slight prick in the crook of his arm and then a squeeze of the shoulder as the world faded away into a familiar nothing. "Click your heels Dorothy…"

-oOo-

His world was nothing again, but this time Dean clawed at it. He wasn't content to drift. He would tear away at the world until nothing became something. Eventually he was rewarded with a light. Wherever he was there was a light on. He tried to focus on it, but his eyes wouldn't open. That old feeling of them being stuck together made panic take flight in his heart for a moment. Dean's arms felt like unfamiliar dead weights, but he shot one out towards the light. He was confused when somebody caught it.

Mercifully his eyes obeyed and opened. Castiel sat there, Dean's outstretched arm in his hand. Carefully he tucked it back in under the covers. As he did so Dean's eyes wandered the room… it was his. They were home. A drip had been rigged up for him, but there were no bleeping monitors. For the first time a dull ache was gathering in his right arm, Dean realised it was encased in a cast. Pain started needling at his other wounds as he took catalogue of each sensation. There was no routine here. If you hurt you took something.

"Cas… hurts". He managed.

Castiel looked at Dean with concern. "I'll get Sam".

As he left the room Dean vaguely thought the crumpled trenchcoat looked strange with his shirt and jeans. Why was he wearing it again anyway? Pain… hurt… it was growing more intense. He almost started longing for the nothing to come back. Then Sam rushed in with a needle and took all his suffering away.

The days passed by and a routine started to take shape around them. Every time Dean woke Castiel was by his side, although that was nothing new… Sam would come in and Castiel would leave. Then the changing of dressings and feeding would begin. At first he slept a lot and that was all he recalled from one day to the next. But gradually the all encompassing weakness started to ebb away and he was able to read a chapter or two of a book… or look at Busty Asian Beauties if Sam was feeling generous. He was adamant he didn't want Dean getting too excited. Occasionally Crowley would drop by and fill him in on the goings on at 'Angel Towers'. It sounded like he had his hands full over there.

When Dean was strong enough to sit up it felt like a milestone. He almost felt like a baby taking its first steps, and he was eager to start running around the bunker. Sam was encouraging but urged him to take it easy. Castiel was quiet… in fact he hardly said a word when Dean woke beside him each morning. He just sat hunched in that chair, clutching at the coat wrapped around him like a security blanket. And Dean began to notice that every time Sam came into the room Castiel went out. He got the feeling there was something going on that he wasn't being told about.

So Dean asked what was wrong next time Sam came to change his bandages.

His brother just gave a tight smile and tried to brush it off. "There's nothing wrong. Seeing you in hospital like that… it was just hard on us all. Don't worry about it, just concentrate on getting better".

_Don't __worry… __j__ust __concen__t__ra__t__e __on ge__tti__ng __be__tt__er… _Dean heard it so often those words almost became a mantra. His bullshit detector was going off, but he just didn't have the energy to butt heads with any of them. He might be able to sit up, but he was a ways off crossing swords yet. Arguing was draining at the best of times, and right now he felt as weak as a kitten.

One day Dean was drifting around the edges of wakefulness when he heard Sam and Castiel talking outside his room. Their voices echoed more clearly down the corridor than they realised.

"… I'm trying to help but I can't take care of you both. Please, for his sake". Sam sounded at the end of his tether.

"I don't need your help. I'm fine". Castiel sounded evasive.

"Really? Crowley told me you passed out in the kitchen".

"He was mistaken… I slipped".

"You can't carry on like this. I see it, Crowley sees it. It's just a blessing Dean doesn't… like I said, for his sake, you have to try".

"I'm fine". Castiel's shuffling footsteps retreated.

"No you're not!" Sam hissed after him, trying to keep his voice down.

So there was something wrong with Castiel. The bottom dropped out of Dean's heart.

When Sam came into the room he patted the covers, attempting to wake Dean up. Dean played along, pretending to blink his way from sleep. A smile was plastered on Sam's face. It was fake in the way it never reached his eyes.

"Hey, I got some pie. Think you're up to eating it?"

Most meals seemed to consist of what Dean would generously call 'mush' so pie sounded wonderful. But Castiel was gnawing away at his thoughts now, he couldn't take pleasure in food.

"Sounds good, but what I'd really like is some truth. What's wrong?" Dean winced as he tried to push himself upright. "And if you say 'don't worry, just concentrate on getting better' so help me I'll…"

"I told you Dean. It was hard on us having you like that…"

"I'm not going to break apart if you tell me something bad". Dean pushed and the smile fell from Sam's face.

"You nearly died Dean, more than once. I expected to see fucking Tessa standing in a corner waiting for you". Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "So forgive me for telling you to get better, I just want you back on your feet, then we can deal with whatever crap comes our way".

He sat down in Castiel's chair… and Dean was momentarily amused by the fact the former angel sat in it so much he thought of it as 'Castiel's chair'. But humour had no place here, not right now, and the moment passed quickly as Sam continued.

"But I don't know… I thought it would get better as you got better. I thought _he _would get better…" Sam corrected himself as an afterthought. He paused before going on, as if wondering what to say and how much to say. "Just try talking to Cas. He won't talk to me".

Before Dean had a chance to say anything else Sam got to his feet and put a fork down next to the plate he brought in. "Enjoy your pie".

And with that, Sam was gone.

Dean stabbed at the pie with frustration. This was the typical Winchester way of going on… hiding things, not talking… it always blew up in the end. They should have learnt their lesson by now. Instead it seemed Castiel had taken a page out of their book… hell he'd taken the whole library. There was a time in a motel room when Castiel insisted he was fine and Dean asked him to talk. It worked. Castiel talked… and told Dean he was afraid he would kill himself. Dean hoped the former angel would still open up to him, but he was a little scared of what he might hear…

-oOo-

The next morning Dean woke with Castiel at his side as usual. Well this time was as good as any…

"Cas, I know there's something wrong… Will you talk to me about it?"

Castiel shot to his feet like a bolt of lightning had just run through his chair. "I should get Sam".

He made his way across the room, pausing only to hold on to the doorway for a moment. He swayed as if getting up so suddenly had made him dizzy.

"No Cas, I don't want Sam, my bandages can wait. I just want…" But Castiel was gone and Dean finished speaking to thin air. "… to talk to you".

Maybe later then… Dammit. Dean felt as frustrated as he had when Castiel would fly off leaving him hanging. The former angel couldn't fly any more, but he could still walk away… Still, it wouldn't be long before Dean would be able to follow him.

As it happened there wasn't a later. Night had nearly fallen when Sam came into Dean's room, rushing to get his coat on. He looked harried.

"I'm going to have to go. Crowley just called to tell me Sachiel's run away. We've got to get to him before the police do, or God forbid an angry mob". He looked down at Dean with concern, clearly torn in two over what to do. "I'm hoping it won't take long to track him down. How far can a flightless angel get right? Will you be okay? I don't want to leave you by yourself… I could try calling another hunter to help Crowley out. Yeah, that's what I'll do, I'll…"

"Sam, stop it, you go… There might not be any other hunters around here. I'll be fine; I'm not at death's door any more, besides, I'm not alone I've got Cas to help me".

"Yeah, you've got Cas to help you…" It was said as if Sam didn't believe a word of it. "I'll be as quick as I can. Call me if you need me".

Then just as Sam was leaving Castiel came in. Sam grabbed the former angel's shirt and pushed him back out the door. They spoke under their breath outside, but Dean could still catch a few of the harsh words exchanged.

"… _i__f __you can't __l__ook __a__ft__er yourse__l__f __at__ l__east __l__ook a__ft__er __h__i__m_…"

Footsteps sounded down the corridor, but Dean could only hear one pair, it was clearly Sam.

"Cas? Are you there?" Nothing.

He imagined the former angel outside, sitting slumped against the wall. Then again, maybe he had walked away with footsteps so soft Dean couldn't hear them.

"Cas, if you're out there, I'd appreciate some company". He tried again.

No reply. Maybe he had gone… Dean listened for a few moments more then drifted off to sleep soon after.

-oOo-

Morning came around and Dean was pulled awake by a dull ache from his wounds. He missed being able to just slide gradually into the waking world, piece by piece. The first foggy degree of awareness always brought his focus sharply onto his arm… his gut… his chest… the bruises. They gripped him and stole any gentle awakening he might have had.

This morning there was something wrong… Along with pain Dean usually awoke to that familiar presence at his side. Today there was something missing. Today there was a hole in the world. Dean opened his eyes and blinked away sleep. Castiel wasn't there.

"Cas?" Dean winced and pushed himself upright. "Where are you dude?"

Ordinarily it wouldn't be a cause for concern. At any other time he would have thought the former angel had finally got the message about watching him being creepy. But there was something wrong. And Castiel was _a__l__wa__y__s _there. No matter what Dean said he would go to bed alone and wake up with the former angel at his side.

He once jokingly asked Castiel if there was something wrong with his own bed. Straight faced the ex-angel had replied that it was perfectly adequate. But he never really explained why he came to Dean in the middle of the night. Castiel probably still thought it was his duty to watch over Dean, though he initially wondered if it gave the former angel comfort as he foundered with his new found humanity… Whatever the reason it had become a habit Dean was used to, and one he even welcomed, especially now.

Dean swung his legs over the side of the bed. If Castiel wasn't here he would just have to go to Castiel. Thankfully Dean noticed a pill bottle and water had been left on his bedside table. He swallowed a couple down and eagerly awaited that blissful moment when his needling hurts would be muted. Gingerly Dean got to his feet, it felt strange… whenever he'd needed to get out of bed before there was always somebody to support him. But now there was nobody to take his weight and coax along his steps. He was alone. Still, Dean had been through Heaven, Hell and Purgatory, so he was sure he could make the short distance to Castiel's room.

Slowly Dean walked down the corridor, his left hand trailing along the wall, and right arm cradled to his chest. When the door to Castiel's room came into sight he felt he had walked miles. A slight sheen of sweat covered his brow and his breath came a little harder than he was used to, but he had made it. Dean pushed the door open with what little force he could muster.

Castiel was on the bed, lying on his side. He looked like he was sleeping…

"Cas? Wake up dude, it's morning". Dean dropped himself down on the side of the bed and shook the former angel gently.

With no response he shook a little harder. "Cas, wake up. Don't make me throw water at you".

Still Castiel remained asleep. This wasn't right… he wasn't usually so hard to rouse. Dean became more desperate. He gave a light slap to the former angel's cheek, then a hard one.

"Cas!" Dean gripped the former angel hard about the jaw. "_Cas__ti__e__l_!" His eyes slid open a crack.

"m'sorry, couldn't come… tried". He whispered faintly.

"What's wrong? Are you sick?" The former angel looked thin and pale. "No, stay awake for me, keep your eyes open!"

They slid closed.

"Cas, wake up! You are not allowed to sleep you hear me?"

With a heavily exhaled breath Castiel's eyes cracked open again.

Dean noticed the ex-angel's shirt had ridden up slightly, his ribs seemed prominent from what little he saw. Almost cautiously Dean pulled the plaid shirt up a little further. He revealed pink scars crossing Castiel's chest, and more ribs. Dean pulled the shirt back down, he had seen enough.

And then a stray sentence seemingly from another world came to Dean's mind… Crowley talking_…__he's not __ea__ti__ng, __I __t__hought __you __s__hou__l__d __kno__w__… _The knowing look to Sam. Passing out. It all fell into place.

"Dammit Cas, what have you done to yourself?"

From out of nowhere Dean suddenly felt guilty, he wasn't sure why… He was close to dying, he couldn't possibly have done anything. But he still couldn't shirk this sense of responsibility he had for Castiel now the angel had fallen. It wasn't logical; it was just his in-built need to look out for family surfacing. Something had gone wrong, he must be to blame in some way… if he couldn't have stopped this from happening directly he must have failed to prepare Castiel for humanity. It was like Dean's subconscious was looking for a way to blame himself.

He told that little voice to shut up, it wasn't helping. What could he do to help now? Water. Get Castiel to drink some water. But that would entail getting to the kitchen… and the kitchen felt like it was half way across the world. Still, he had gone through Heaven, Hell and Purgatory, he could get to the kitchen... That would be his new mantra.

"Cas, I'm going to get you a drink. I'll be right back, stay awake".

Normally a trip to the kitchen would take two minutes. For Dean it was much longer. He pushed himself every step of the way, remembering his struggle through Purgatory, fighting and bleeding to get to the angel. Once again he was on a mission to save Castiel, and Castiel didn't want to be saved. He didn't want to escape Purgatory, and apparently he wanted to starve… but Dean wouldn't take it lying down. He would start with a drink of water.

Dean carried it back like he was bearing the Holy Grail. He felt like he had just run a marathon. But he couldn't lie down and rest until water had passed Castiel's lips. Once again he dropped onto the side of the bed.

"Cas, you better drink this after the trek I've had to get it". The glass was offered. Castiel turned his head away.

"Please, just a sip". Dean awkwardly put one hand under the former angel's head and held the glass to his lips.

This time Castiel frowned and shifted across the bed, pushing Dean's hand out of the way. He almost spilt the precious water over the sheets.

Dean's voice turned hard. "You're going to drink, you're going to eat, and you're going to get better".

"No…" Castiel mumbled.

"What do you mean 'no'? Are you going to make me watch you waste away? You've just watched me nearly die and I've got a feeling it wasn't much fun. You're going to get strong again, and we're going to hunt together, save your brothers, and kick Metatron in the ass".

"You don't need me… I'm a burden. I'll hurt you again… I can only break, never fix… I'm a broken angel, I don't belong".

"Bullshit. Is this the crap Auriel's put in your head?"

"It's what I am". The trench coat lay trapped beneath the former angel. "Blind and broken… they all say it".

Suddenly his reason for wearing the coat again became clear.

"You're one of us. You're human. You're a brother to me and Sam, and as much of a Winchester as we are… A good man once told me family don't end in blood. You're _our _family and you belong with _u__s_". Dean put as much passion into his words as he could muster, and then tentatively he reached forwards with the glass.

This time Castiel took a sip. A small one. Dean breathed out a sigh of relief. It seemed a fragile moment, with both men less than they were, and delicate, brittle words threading them together, making something of strength between the two. Castiel drank again. They could so easily have shattered beneath the strain, but they held together… When the glass was empty Dean lay back exhausted. There wasn't much room on the bed, but he wouldn't make it back to his own room, and more importantly he didn't want to leave Castiel alone.

Some time later Sam came barrelling through the door, Dean shot up while Castiel lay asleep.

"Thank God! You weren't in your room, I thought you… I thought… Nevermind, what are you doing in Cas' bed?"

"I couldn't wake him up Sam. He wasn't there this morning… he wouldn't wake up, he was too weak".

"I'm sorry Dean, I knew he wasn't eating… I should have done more. But you were in hospital when it started, and I didn't realise". Sam spoke as if he was finally lifting a burden from his shoulders. "There were always excuses. He told me Crowley made him something, and he told Crowley I made him something. When I did make him food I thought he ate it, but Crowley found him throwing it away… He would go on food runs at the hospital and only bring something back for me. I tried Dean… but you were dying, and I didn't know what to do. I tried to help, and he wouldn't let me…"

"It's not your fault. It's… hell, it's a lot of people, from Metatron to Auriel and probably all the way back to God himself. Not forgetting me of course… but you couldn't have done anything if he was so set on self destruction. Anyway, I think he might let me help now…"

"We'll fix him Dean"

_I__t__'s what __I __a__m… b__li__nd __and __b__roken._

He had just told Castiel he wasn't a broken angel, he was human. Was he wrong in thinking of them as broken? They were stronger than they realised, all three of them. They would weather storms holding on to each other.

"He's not broken... None of us are".

_A__nge__l__s __w__it__h __s__il__ver w__i__ngs  
Shou__l__dn__'__t __know su__ff__er__i__ng_


	9. Chapter 9

Note: If you've read my previous stuff you might know I like to highlight vids and songs that are awesome/inspire me. Usually there's one particular song/artist who's thread will run through the whole work. Well this is my Balmorhea fic. The song "Remembrance" is one that heavily influcenced me and got me in the right headspace to write this. And there is one vid that I absolutely must show you.

While I was writing this chapter I had Remembrance playing, I took a break to browse Livejournal and to my surprise somebody had just posted a fanvid set to it. I'm not afraid to say it made me cry. It felt like this person had got into my head (and my heart). The summary they posted encapsulated so much of what I'm trying to explore with this fic: "A video about Castiel's doubts, the choices he's made, the ones that have been made for him, and the consequences of all the above". I just had to weave in some of the lines used. I'm dedicating this chapter to Vandlp and her wonderful heartbreaking video. Give it a watch, you won't regret it. (Because FF dot net is an assbutt and won't link, just add this on to the Youtube address: watch?v=CtnKlTo9Ygg)

Quotes are from Apocalyptica's "Life Burns".

**Chapter 9**

_A man dies like a butterfly  
Life burns from the touch of the reaper  
All things must pass_

A strange role reversal occurred in the days that followed - Castiel would wake to Dean at his side. In getting more mobile Dean was keen to do more for himself and help Castiel too. After getting Sachiel back Sam was spending a bit more time over at Angel Towers giving Crowley a hand. So Dean found himself in charge of making food and getting Castiel to eat it. Although it was slow going with one arm in a cast, Dean made a note to appreciate the little things when he was back to full health, not least being able to jump in the shower at the drop of a hat instead of wrapping his arm up and struggling with dressings. It brought to mind his time with a broken leg and how much he had resented that.

One morning Dean prepared a bowl of mush for Castiel and went to take his bedside seat… Maybe it would be dubbed "Dean's chair" he mused. The former angel was still asleep, though he frowned and twitched as if suffering a nightmare. He shifted under the sheets and muttered words Dean couldn't make out. Then suddenly Castiel shot bolt upright.

"No! _Metatron_…"

His hand flew instantly to his throat, clutching as if to keep a flow of blood at bay. The former angel made a terrible choking noise; his stark blue eyes were blown wide with fear.

Dean reached forwards to take Castiel's shoulders. "Cas, sshhh, it's alright…"

Gently the ex-angel lay back down, breathing hard as he came out of the nightmare. Was this how he ended up at Dean's side every morning? Chased from sleep and seeking solace? Recognition crept back into Castiel's eyes. He took in the room and seemed to remember where he was, who he was… The hand fell from his throat to the sheets.

"Cas? Will you talk to me now? Want to tell me what that was all about?"

He looked like it was the last thing he wanted to do. But Castiel licked his dry lips all the same and tried.

"Metatron… it was the moment he took my grace. He cut my throat". It was said so matter of fact, as if having your throat cut was an every day occurrence.

"Shit… do you have that nightmare often?"

"Not every night. Sometimes I see myself killing Balthazar, other nights I'm trapped in a circle of fire begging you to listen… My subconscious has a lot of material to torture me with I suppose". Castiel spoke in that detached manner again. Dean wasn't sure whether it was through weakness or the fact he had become used to reliving these horrors. "I used to walk in dreams as an angel; it was as easily done as stepping in to the next room… They always seemed so obviously fabricated to me, like paper walls, weak and fragile. I wasn't prepared for being a dreamer… seeing a cage of iron, real and impenetrable as stone".

He closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and looked straight up at the ceiling as he went on.

"The worst is when I see myself shooting you. I feel my finger pull the trigger, I hear you scream, and the scent of blood… it's all so real. I made the wrong choice, and I am forced to relive it". Castiel looked at Dean then, his voice finally betrayed some emotion. "I hurt you Dean, and I couldn't heal you. You lay dying and it was _my_ fault, I nearly killed you".

"But you didn't. You took a shot I _asked_ you to take. That wingless dick wasn't going to let us walk out of there. You killed him and saved us all".

"Yes… I shot him, over and over. And that scares me too. How easily killing comes… but it always has done. I was created to obey, and so I obeyed… I have committed atrocities I can't even remember. I have killed my brothers and sisters, I have killed countless humans, and I almost killed you. I was made to destroy, I can't fix anything, I couldn't fix you… I should have put the gun down".

Dean moved in closer to Castiel. "Listen to me, you saved us… you saved a lot of people. You fixed it Cas. Sure you had to kill the bad guy, but he had it coming. He was going to kill thousands of innocents… and look at me, I'm here, I'm alive. You made the _right_ choice".

The former angel blinked, and a tear escaped down his cheek. He looked as if he wanted to contradict Dean, as if he doubted those words… as if he didn't dare hope they were true. But Castiel said nothing more, and so Dean held out a spoonful of mush. For a moment he thought the ex-angel would refuse. He thought Castiel might push it away and tell him he was wrong. Instead he gingerly reached out to take it, and Dean allowed himself to feel a slight sliver of hope at last.

-oOo-

However hope was a delicate thing, and it became battered and bruised along the way. Castiel's recovery was filled with good days and bad days. On the good days he would eat at Dean's insistence, and on the bad days… well, on one particularly bad day Dean went into the bathroom to find the mirror shattered. He found Castiel sat on his bed, nursing a bloody fist. The former angel said he couldn't bear Jimmy staring at him any longer.

Dean had the feeling a tipping point would come… and it came when he set a sandwich down in front of Castiel. The former angel was sitting at the table with a dark look on his face. He pushed the sandwich away.

"Cas, you know I'm going to be all over your ass until you eat that".

"I don't want it".

"Would you stop being a child and eat the sandwich? They're not that easy to make with one working arm you know".

"I don't need to eat".

Dean took a seat opposite Castiel. "You do now. You know you have to…"

"I don't need to eat because I'm dying".

"You're what?"

"I used to feel this body – Jimmy's body – deteriorate. It was breaking down around me, every cell was dying, and I stopped it. I can't any more… This body is dying all around me and I can't feel it, I can't stop it. So let me die".

"The same thing is happening to me and every other living thing on this planet. You live your life, you get old, you die. You're one of us now, so live your life… you've got a lot of years in you yet".

"I haven't got long… you don't understand, how could you understand? I was created long before your ancestors walked the land, and I was made to last eternity. This short human life is passing by so quickly, every minute, every second drags me down to my grave. Imagine you with your long human life being transformed into a butterfly with only a week to live. Would living matter to you?"

"Of course it would! I'd make it a week worth living. You have to try Cas, are you not even going to try?"

Castiel didn't answer, he just got up from the table and went to walk away. Dean jumped from his seat and grabbed the former angel, shoving him against the wall.

"You can't zap away now Cas! You have to face this, you don't get to run away!"

The former angel didn't try to push Dean away or even attempt to writhe out of his grasp. He held on to Dean's arms as tightly as Dean held him. "Let me die! Just let me die…"

"And you know what will happen if you die right? You'll go back to Metatron. Is that what you want? Would you rather be with him than me?"

"He has my grace…"

"If you want your grace back we can defeat him another way, you don't have to die".

"I just want this charade of humanity to end …"

"It's not a charade Cas, you are every bit as human and real as me. It's your soul, remember?" Dean shook Castiel as best he could with one hand twisted firmly in the former angel's trench coat.

"You know I'm not… there's something wrong with me, even as an angel I was different. I was flawed. Lucifer called me peculiar… Naomi said I had a crack in my chassis. _I_ _don't even die right_" There was a sneer in Castiel's words as he recalled what Naomi said. The former angel gave a hollow laugh. "For someone who finds killing so easy dying is surprisingly difficult".

The fight seemed to go out of him then. He let go of Dean's arms, and with the release of tension they both sank down to the floor.

"You don't want to be my brother Dean, not after all I've done. You said Auriel deserved to die… I have woken covered in the blood of innocents. I hurt you, I hurt _Sam. _I don't deserve to live".

"You really want to know what's wrong with you? '_Too much heart was always Castiel's problem_' that's what Samandriel said to me. You're not like those other heartless dicks, you care!"

"And I killed Samandriel!"

"Because Naomi screwed with your head! It wasn't you Cas! Don't you see that you're different because you're better than them? You have compassion, you show empathy and kindness. Every time you kill you regret, the others don't even question the destruction - most of them welcome it! You have too much heart and that is a _good_ thing".

Castiel just looked at him with half believing eyes. "Even after everything you see the good in me?"

"The good is what makes you different. You're _not_ wrong, you're _not_ flawed, and I would be proud to call you brother". Dean released his grip on the trench coat and held Castiel's shoulder instead. His manner went from confrontation to comfort. "Remember when we first met, remember what you said to me? '_You don't think you deserve to be saved?_' And I didn't, I tortured in hell, I thought I deserved to suffer… not be saved by an angel of the Lord. I couldn't see it, and you can't see it now. So I'm telling you: Castiel… you deserve to be saved".

Dean could see something shift in Castiel's eyes. Despair slowly drained away to be replaced with a spark of hope. The former angel never said another word; they just helped each other to their feet and Castiel made his way to the table. Before sitting down he took off the trench coat and draped it over the back of his chair. It felt like he was stripping away his angelic self and accepting humanity at last. Castiel took his seat and pulled the plate back over.

The tipping point had come and Castiel had made it through.

-oOo-

In time they both recovered. Dean was ecstatic to get his cast off, though he had to work on strengthening his arm. Castiel helped him through it. They both went to the shooting range to practice, as each day passed Dean held the gun up for longer and aimed more accurately.

Castiel fully embraced humanity. Dean taught him to drive. He was wary of letting the former angel loose with the Impala, but he seemed to stick to the rules of the road as if they were written by God himself. So over time Dean trusted Castiel to do more driving, he even let him do supply runs by himself. Dean was learning to let go a little, he would never fully silence the need to protect his family, but getting Castiel comfortable with humanity meant letting him have that freedom.

Their efforts on helping the angels were hit and miss. A couple more had joined their little group after hunters a few states over had found them. The detention centres were proving harder to crack. A few of their network had already been discovered trying to tap in on FBI communication, and they had been quickly arrested. The hunters weren't having much luck but human rights groups seemed to be getting somewhere. They were making demands to inspect the centres; many had concerns about the angels' treatment. The debate had gone national. Once Dean turned the television on to hear a reporter gathering opinions from the populace…

"_What I've heard is disgusting, they might not be of our kind but we should treat them with respect and dignity. They are not lab rats and deserve better than that…"_ A well dressed woman stood on the side of the angels.

While another man said something that made Dean switch the television off… "_All this human rights claptrap is nonsense, they're not human! They don't get human rights! Pull them apart I say, we've got to know if they're a danger…_"

While the human rights groups were exerting pressure, this was the FBI… they would not give way. Still, the large international groups had resources. If they couldn't get in through the front door, they would surely try the back door.

The angel problem loomed large, but the every day supernatural still had to be taken care of. There was a ghost causing trouble just a few miles away, so Sam and Castiel had gone to the library to do some research. Dean was just sitting down to eat when they returned.

Sam set his laptop down on the table, he had a pile of papers on top of it. "She's cute! I think you should ask her on a date, I'm sure Dean would approve".

Castiel hovered around uncomfortably. "We were there to do research, not flirt".

"What's this?" Dean raised an eyebrow.

"The girl on the desk who helped us with the archives, she was really into Cas". He started leafing through the papers.

"Really? You hound dog". Dean smirked.

The former angel looked away and put a hand to his neck, blushing.

"Oh look, she did this photocopying for us and put her number in here!" Sam waved a small shred of paper about.

Dean snatched it with a grin. "Her name's Katie. Hey Cas, you gonna kiss Kate?"

He offered the piece of paper to Castiel, who took it and stormed off to the kitchen in a cloud of embarrassment.

"Aww, our little boy's all grown up". Dean watched him go then turned to Sam. "So, you get anything?"

Sam slid the papers over to Dean and started up his laptop. "It looks pretty straight forward. I went right back to when the house was built, but the most likely cause for our ghost is a crime of passion. A soldier, George, came back from the war to find his wife in bed with his friend Albert. Albert had been sent home injured years before… So George snaps, kills them both, then realises what he's done and commits suicide. Just think… you live through the Second World War, only to end like that".

"Yeah, sucks to be sure… Bet our boy George thought she'd be waiting for him with her arms open. Not in bed with his friend and her legs open… Think he's the ghost?"

"The other two were cremated, so it's most likely him. There have been sightings of a figure hanging from a tree too…"

"Got a location for the grave?"

"A vague one, just going to search and see if I can narrow it down…" Sam did a bit of typing, and then he frowned. "Shit… you've got to see this".

Dean skirted round the table and came to look over Sam's shoulder.

"I just pulled up a news website… looks like World Reprieve managed to infiltrate a detention centre. It's not good".

Dean cursed under his breath as he read the report, but the pictures were the worst. They came with a warning, Sam clicked past it and scrolled through them, they had to see.

"It's like a frigging concentration camp…" Image after image of pale, thin and scarred angels cropped up.

And then there came a photo of a pit in the ground. It was filled with bodies.

"Shit… what the hell are they doing to them? Auriel said he was experimented on, but this… this is slaughter".

They neared the end of the photos. One of the last was a black and white print of an angel curled up in the corner of a concrete cell. He was naked with his head in his hands.

"Is that..?" He looked familiar, but the face was obscured.

The very last photo was the same angel, but he was looking up at the camera with a haunted and bewildered expression. His face was bruised and swollen, but it was definitely Lastor.

"Don't let Cas see this". Sam was about to close the laptop when Castiel walked in, he seemed so carefree with a sandwich in hand.

"Don't let Cas see what?" He put his sandwich down on the table and went to join Dean at Sam's shoulder.

The former angel's face set as he saw the images.

"Cas, we'll stop this, we'll find a way". Dean desperately hoped this wouldn't set him back. It had been months now and he was practically fully integrated with humanity. The last thing he needed was a set back.

"I just need a moment…" The ex-angel left, heading for the bathroom.

So Dean gave him a moment before following. He found Castiel kneeling in front of the toilet bowl.

"Cas? You okay?" Dean asked tentatively.

Castiel got to his feet, there was no despair in his eyes. At that Dean was quietly pleased. There was nothing but steely determination, and anger.

"Metatron will pay for this".

-oOo-

Making an angel pay was difficult when he was an angel given to running and hiding. It was even more so considering he was the only full angel left. They had no others to go up and smoke him out. So time marched on as they struggled to make headway.

They took hunting jobs, they tried to make ground with the angels, and Castiel was eventually pushed into a date…

When he came back to the bunker Sam and Dean were sitting at the table waiting for him.

"So how did it go?" Dean asked eagerly.

Castiel had a small smile on his face. "She said she thinks I'm weird… but that's what she likes about me".

"How far did you get?"

"_Dean_". Sam chastised him with a word.

"What? I want all the gory details, it's just casual sex, nobody says he has to marry the girl".

Castiel frowned. "I was respectable with the young lady. She kissed me on the cheek".

"Okay, maybe next time for the casual sex then… nothing wrong with taking it slow. Was she impressed with Baby?"

Dean had insisted he pick Katie up in the Impala. He thought it was pure girl bait.

"Yes Dean, her clothes fell off the instant she got in". Castiel deadpanned.

"You're sassy as a human, you know that?"

Castiel ignored him. "Maybe I'll go to the library tomorrow and take some flowers for her. That's how you traditionally court is it not?"

"Don't look at me; Sam's the one for romance crap. I just buy the girl a few shots and get to business".

Sam snorted. "Yeah Cas, I'm sure she'd like that. Just don't go taking any advice from Dean. I think girls who work in libraries need a slightly different approach…"

"Oh no… library girls are the dirtiest of them all. The glasses come off, the hair comes down…"

Sam interrupted with a cough. "I think you're confusing real life with porn again".

"Yeah, well, the pizza man isn't always wrong. Am I right Cas?" He got up and gave the former angel a wink and a nudge.

Castiel didn't have to be pushed into any more dates after that. The rest he initiated himself. He seemed happy, which pleased Dean. At last he seemed to be enjoying life. He threw himself into their hunts and took out ghosts and all manner of monsters. Then he would see Katie. But Dean got the feeling the angels… those images… they gnawed at him deep down. Still, they were doing all they could.

-oOo-

One night Castiel returned to the bunker with a lipstick mark on his cheek.

"So Cas, when are we going to meet the lovely Katie? I feel I need to do the fatherly thing and give you my blessing. C'mere, you've got…"

Dean rubbed at the mark and Castiel batted him away. "You're not my father Dean, and I can hardly bring her here. She thinks I'm weird already, the secret underground lair might scare her off".

"You know who has a secret underground lair? Batman. And chicks love Batman".

"Of course… I'm sure her clothes would fall off if she saw this place too. What are you doing anyway?"

Dean was busy leafing through the paperwork Sam had brought from the library ages ago. "Remember that World War ghost we iced? Turns out we didn't ice it after all. We got the wrong one in fact… looks like some other girl hung herself there years before when the family farm went under".

"But the poltergeist activity stopped didn't it?"

"Ah, no… turns out the family just moved away, and it's been empty since, so we didn't hear anything. Of course a new family moves in and it all starts again. We're getting ready to head over if you want to change and get that lipstick off your face".

Castiel rubbed at his cheek self consciously. Then Sam came hurrying over.

"I've just had a call from Crowley. They've had a visit from a police officer… he got them to leave but he's worried they might come back and raid the place. I'm going to bail on the ghost hunt and head over there, you'll be okay right?"

"Yeah Sam, we'll be fine. You go see what's what… Think we'll have to move them?"

Sam sighed. "It's a possibility".

"Wonderful… Okay, looks like it's just you and me Cas, let's lock and load".

-oOo-

"It's like looking for a friggin' needle in a haystack…"

And so Dean and Castiel found themselves searching an orchard in the middle of the night. Their flashlights bounced off the grass at the foot of the trees, but no markers stood out against the trunks. They hadn't been tended in a long time, the place had grown wild with weeds and the neat rows of trees had tangled, with some broken, and some dead.

"The article said she was buried on the property under the biggest tree in the orchard. But that was years ago! The tree could be long gone…"

"Did it mention anything about the marker? How big it was? What it was made of?"

"No… just her name, dates, and something about sleeping with the angels I think. Not _that_ kind of sleeping". Dean added with a chuckle.

Castiel sighed and rolled his eyes. "Wait… over there, there's a stump with something leaning against it".

Dean squinted and followed the former angel's line of sight. They had reached the edge of the orchard, a stone wall stood up ahead, but in front of it there was a large stump, half rotted, with a slab of stone… "Bingo".

Just as they reached the edge of the tree line a cold wind blew savagely through the branches and Dean felt a rope around his neck. His hands flew up to grasp it, but there was nothing there. Before he had a chance to call out he was pulled off his feet to hang from the boughs of the apple tree above. His lungs heaved, but he couldn't draw breath. Dean kicked his legs out; they merely flailed through the air helplessly.

And then he felt cold hands caress his face, and a soft voice whispered a lilting song at his ear… "_Are you… are you coming to the tree? Wear a necklace of rope side by side with me…_"

The blast of a shotgun showered salt over him. Abruptly Dean fell to the ground, hitting his knees hard. Castiel was at his side in an instant. Dean gasped each breath in, and weakly pointed at the grave. "Go… dig…"

The former angel dashed over to the weathered headstone. Dean allowed himself a few more breaths before staggering to his feet and joining him. Castiel had dropped the shotgun to take up the shovel, so Dean grabbed it and pulled the salt out of their bag. He started on circle around the grave, but that cold wind came and the grains flew away. Suddenly the ghost appeared before him, Dean loosed off a shot without a second thought.

"Dig faster Cas! This doesn't keep her away for long!"

"I'm going as fast as I can!"

Dean was torn in two. He could join in with digging and get to torching the bones faster, but that would leave them exposed. The other option was protecting Castiel while he dug up the grave, but that would leave them at her mercy for longer. For a few moments he stood with shotgun at the ready… but the air was silent, and so he stooped to pick up a shovel.

It wasn't long before the ghost appeared again. Dean shot at her, but she seemed to be learning and flickered out of existence, only to appear at Dean's side and throw him through the air. He hit the ground hard, rolled, and came up with the shotgun aimed and ready. She wasn't prepared for _that_ one.

And so they went on, trading blows with Dean trying to keep the ghost away from Castiel while the former angel dug furiously. There was only one misstep where Dean went flying through the air and the ghost moved in quickly to tear the shovel from Castiel's hands.

The former angel started to gasp, hands clawing at his throat, while she lazily drifted towards him. Dean scrambled to his feet and loosed off a shot. Castiel heaved in a breath, but went straight back for the shovel. Dean stood at his back, shotgun raised and ready. The only problem was that he was running low on shells…

"Got it!" Castiel had uncovered the bones at last. He poured lighter fluid into the grave and went to ignite it.

At this the ghost flew into a rage, she shrieked and went for Dean. He shot through the air and cracked his head on the wall. His vision filled with sparks, but it was the rope at his neck that worried him the most. The world spun - through lack of oxygen or the blow to his head he wasn't sure… but then the merciful whoosh of fire taking hold reached his ears and an unearthly scream followed soon after.

His vision remained murky… so it was the blow to his head then. Dean blinked and made out Castiel kneeling beside him… then a hand on his shoulder.

"Dean? Are you okay? Can you hear me?"

The former angel's voice seemed to come from a million miles away, and he couldn't quite get his mouth to cooperate and answer. Dean made something like a groan and shut his eyes tight. There was a sudden stab of pain at the back of his head… uncomfortable pressure accompanied it.

The world tilted precariously and Dean realised he was being hauled to his feet.

"I'm going to get you back to the car; you're going to be okay".

Dean's head lolled, he just couldn't find the strength to hold it up. While he tried to help by taking steps his feet were clumsy and slow, Castiel was doing more to move him along… It was slow going back through the orchard, Dean's feet caught on roots and branches snagged at his shirt. More than once the two of them were almost brought to the ground. Castiel held Dean's arm tight around his neck. Dean could feel the former angel's sweat… it must be hard going for him, dragging Dean and carrying their equipment too. Somewhere in his addled mind he thought he could make things easier by walking himself.

"'m okay… c'n wlk…" Dean managed to pull away from Castiel. He took a couple of steps then collapsed into a trunk.

"No you can't" Castiel grabbed him again and held on a bit more firmly. "We're almost there anyway".

Sure enough they reached the road and the Impala stood there gleaming in the moonlight like some precious steed come to their rescue.

"A real horse would come when I whistled…" Dean mumbled vaguely. "Jus' like Trigger…"

"What?" Castiel's brow furrowed. "Never mind, let's get you in the car".

Dean had enough about him to duck his head as Castiel helped him to lie across the back seat. The former angel placed a coat under his head and told him to stay awake before getting in the driver's seat. As the car rolled along it became difficult to keep his eyes open, his head hurt and if he could just sleep for a bit it might ease off…

"Dean, wake up".

The car swerved a little as Castiel reached back to shake him.

"I need you to stay awake Dean, you've got a head injury, I can't let you sleep".

"But m'tired".

"I know, we're almost home, you can rest when I've checked you out".

"Since when did you become a doctor hm?" Dean muttered muzzily.

"Since I've had to deal with injuries the slow, annoying, human way. Now keep your eyes open or I'll put the radio on and find a station playing that boy you hate… Justin Beaver is it?"

Dean groaned and pushed his face into the dirty coat beneath him. Then he was jostled about suddenly as the car swerved violently and the brakes screeched in protest. Dean's head started pounding at the onslaught. He could just about make out Castiel scrabbling at the door.

"Let me out! Let me out now!" He sounded terrified… why was he…?

There was somebody in the shotgun seat.

"Shh Castiel… I come to offer you a choice".

Metatron.

-oOo-

Note: You might recognise the words from the ghost's song, I imagined this haunting little tune- youtube: watch?v=uKrCE1aYz7o


	10. Chapter 10

Note: Apologies again for another late update. Work has been kicking my ass and free time has become near non-existant, pffft.

The quote is from "Man's Road" by America. It was used on The Last Unicorn which has been the main inspiration behind this fic, I've got to credit a couple of lines to it too, they were too good not to adapt XD

And finally another amazing fanvid you must see by sparksfly221 (as ever add this on to the YouTube link: watch?feature=player_embedded&v=pwB3BkPq4y8 ). It's another using a heartwrenching Balmorhea piece that I watched over and over while writing this. Enjoy :)  


**Chapter 10**

_The stars fade, the night shade  
Falls and makes the world afraid  
It waits in silence for the sky to explode  
Here I am on Man's road_

Dean strained to get up and punch the conniving dick but he found himself stuck to the backseat with his voice dead in his throat.

"I want nothing from you!" Castiel sounded frantic.

"You might want this…"

Metatron pulled out a small glowing bottle on a chain.

Castiel just looked at it fearfully.

Metatron held it out. "Take it… it's yours".

Still Castiel hesitated.

"What? Don't you want to be an angel again? This is no trick, I give you my word".

"Your word is as worthless as you are". Castiel spat.

"I know…" The angel's voice turned suddenly melancholy. "I was wrong, I have done a terrible thing Castiel. I see it now… As they died they came to me with their stories. They told me tales of suffering. I wanted them to be part of humanity, and they became victims of humanity. They came to me with eyes so dead and hearts so torn… I wanted revenge, but I didn't want _this_".

Castiel still refused to take the grace, so Metatron placed it down on the dash. It sat there inconspicuously like a lucky trinket giving off a suffuse glow.

"Why are you here? Why are you bringing my grace back to me?" The ex-angel was suspicious.

"I was surrounded by those haunted faces, scarred by agony, and I couldn't stand it… I tried to be a God, I tried to create stories with them, with you… and it all went wrong. I thought you would understand Castiel, you of all people". He stared at the former angel, seemingly giving him a moment to think of his own time bearing the mantle of God. "I've come to give you the choice I took from you, the choice to have your grace back. Will you take it and save them?"

"So that's what this is about? You want me to save them? You're an angel. As someone once told me – clean up your mess!"

"And as I once told you – I'm a pencil pusher, you're the warrior… you're the hero". The angel seemed to diminish and shrink. He was the demure bookworm once again. But Dean wouldn't be taken in by it.

"You were more than a pencil pusher when you took my grace, when you cast our brothers and sisters down to the earth".

"And it showed me I shouldn't try to be anything more than what I am…" Metatron sighed. "I know it will be hard for you to believe, but I honestly wanted the best for you. You have been burdened by so much… Heaven and Hell, angels and demons… I wanted to free you from it all. I wanted you to create a wonderful life away from all of this. But of course the characters in our stories don't always do what we want… Look at you - you stopped with the Winchesters, you kept fighting. Maybe we all have our roles in life and we are made to fill them… me the writer, you the warrior. Take your grace and save our brothers".

"I asked you to save somebody once… you did nothing, did you even hear my prayer?"

"I heard… and I saw you at Dean's bedside. It was part of your story; I couldn't take that from you".

"You let me suffer just like you're letting the others suffer! We are not your characters; we are not pawns on your chessboard!"

"I know that now, and I would ask your forgiveness but I know I won't get it". Metatron looked away, shamefaced. Then tentatively he turned back to Castiel. "There is one last thing you may wish to do for me though…"

"And what is that?" Castiel sneered.

"Take my grace". Metatron held out his angel blade.

Castiel stared at it. Dean wondered if the former angel was considering taking the sword and shoving it through Metatron's heart… It's what he would be sorely tempted to do.

"Let me be free, let me live my own story… Take what I took from you". An anxious eager light seemed to shine in the angel's eyes.

"No…" Castiel whispered and backed as far away as he could in the confines of the car. "I could not take another angel's grace, that decision is yours and yours alone".

Metatron's face fell, his hand lowered. "Very well… I have set a choice before you. I hope you make the right one".

Castiel said nothing; he stared at Metatron and breathed hard.

The angel's voice turned solemn then, he seemed suddenly hollow and tired. "Goodbye Castiel… you will not hear from me again".

As Metatron disappeared Dean felt his limbs free up and the oppressive atmosphere lighten. He pushed himself upright and found the world remained where it was instead of spinning dangerously. His thoughts were clear and his head pain free to boot. Had Metatron healed him?

Castiel sat behind the wheel staring fearfully at his grace. Dean had seen that look on his face once before, a long time ago in a "den of iniquity". It was a part of him, why was he so scared? He had just been given what he wanted, why wasn't he on top of the world?

"What are you waiting for Cas? Aren't you going to open it up?"

The ex-angel took a moment to answer. "Will you take it? Can you look after it for me?"

"Sure…" He wasn't really sure why Castiel wanted him to look after it, but he couldn't refuse.

Dean went to sit in the shotgun seat. He reached forwards to take the small bottle. It was warm to the touch… Dean couldn't quite believe it held Castiel's grace. It seemed so small and fragile, but he held a nuclear bomb in the palm of his hand. This was Castiel's _grace_, his power, the source of his smiting. Why was he treating it like a bottle of poison?

Castiel swallowed heavily. "Put it in your pocket… I don't want to see it".

Confused Dean nodded and carefully hid the bottle away in his inside pocket. He felt its warmth seep into his skin as the grace rested against his heart. Castiel started the car up and pulled off without a word. He drove on in silence, but Dean could tell his thoughts were going a mile a minute.

"Talk to me Cas".

"I don't know…" He licked his dry lips and started again with a heavy breath. "I can't make this choice".

"You know not making a choice is making a choice right? I thought you wanted your grace back?"

"I don't want to make this choice… I don't know if I want my grace back".

Dean would be happy for Castiel to stay human, but that was for purely selfish reasons… He had another brother now, someone to fight side by side with, someone to share a beer with. Together with Sam the three of them were a tight knit dysfunctional family of their own. If Castiel took his grace back he would return to Heaven, he would drop in for a word about a portent of doom and disappear at the most inconvenient moment. The relaxed easy smile Dean had got used to seeing would be replaced with that serious angelic expression. It was more akin to the gaze of a hawk than anything human and feeling. But only an angel could rescue their kin, and if Castiel would be happier as an angel, he would let him go.

"You don't want to be an angel?"

"This soul, the one you said was mine, it is a part of me now. It felt wrong at first, strange and heavy in my heart, but it gives me warmth. This soul helps me feel, and grace… grace is so cold, it was made for obedience and duty, not feeling. If I embrace it what will happen to my soul? I resented this feeble, fragile thing at first… I couldn't see how perfect it was. Will it die? Will part of me die with it? For the first time in a long time I know who I am. I am human… and I am happy".

Dean felt the warmth of Castiel's grace against his chest… it certainly didn't feel cold. But now he saw where Castiel's fear came from.

Then just as Dean turned his gaze to the window a bright light flashed illuminating the night sky. When it faded a shooting star was left coursing across the inky, black, field of stars.

"Look…" He pointed and wondered if anyone else was watching. Would anyone heed yet another catching light in the sky? Would they know what they were seeing? Would they realise the significance of it?

And so the last angel fell from Heaven.

-oOo-

When they returned to the bunker Dean and Castiel sat down at the table. Cautiously Dean pulled the vial of grace from his pocket and placed it down between them.

Castiel stared at it, the suffuse glow reflected eerily in his eyes.

"I look at it and I don't see me… I have almost forgotten what I used to be. I feel I would break apart if I take it in, I am not meant for such power, I am no angel". The ex-angel closed his eyes and held his head in his hands. When he looked back up his eyes were shining. "Angels don't feel… not like this, I have never loved so intensely nor felt a happiness so deep. The bond of brotherhood we share was strong before but now it is unbreakable. I won't feel this way as an angel… it will all be muted. I'll never know the butterfly's joy. A longer life isn't always a better one; you grow tired watching everything turn to dust... Sometimes a week dancing on the wind is enough".

"If you don't want to take it back you don't have to. We'll find some other way to save the angels". In his heart of hearts Dean knew it was near impossible. But he didn't want Castiel to feel pressured into taking back his grace.

"I have my brothers, you and Sam… I have a future, I have Katie. I can't give it up, I can't choose between you and that". He indicated his grace with a frown. "I have forgotten so much, but I still remember Naomi telling me to choose… _us or them_ she said, and I chose you. I would always choose you…"

The bunker door slammed open and Dean cursed the interruption. Sam came dashing towards them. He dropped his bag and looked about to launch into a tirade before he spotted the grace and stopped in his tracks.

"Is that…?"

"Yes".

"How…?"

"Metatron appeared in the car. He seemed to have learnt the error of his ways… he gave Cas his grace back and then flew off to do his own 'gracectomy'".

Sam suddenly smiled. "Perfect timing. I got there just as the police were arresting Crowley and taking the angels away. You can power up and save them!"

"Uh… Sam… Hold your horses. He might not be taking his grace back".

"What? But… but I thought that's what you wanted?" Sam spoke to Castiel but the former angel remained staring at his grace.

"Not any more…" Dean answered for him.

"Wait, so you're just going to let them rot? Crowley? Jophiel? _All_ of them?" Sam asked in an incredulous tone.

Finally Castiel looked up at him. "I can't take it back… that isn't me any more".

"You _are_ going to let them rot then? So all the angels of the world will remain prisoners forever, except one, and he will grow old and die". Sam said bitterly.

Castiel's manner suddenly turned fraught. "Everything dies! That is right and as it should be. I am no angel! I'm human… I feel and breathe and bleed and die, you can't make me change back!"

"Then it ends here. Leave the angels to an eternity of torture, let Crowley suffer alongside them. Forget it all, just marry Katie and live happily ever after. Is that what you want?"

"I would rather live happily ever after as a human than live eternally as a wretched hero!"

"I would gladly lay my life down to save others. You're thinking only of yourself!" The heat turned up on Sam's anger.

"Sammy, let him stay the way he is… let him be". Dean tried to intervene, but he only drew Sam's ire.

"You don't care! You're as bad as he is! You don't care what happens to any of them, as long as you get to keep your family together! You stopped me from closing the gates of hell because you couldn't bear to let me go. Never mind how many are going to suffer because of it!"

That was the last straw for Dean. "I wish I didn't care! I wish to God I didn't care about any of them, but I do! And some days the guilt is enough to drown me! But no good will come from forcing Castiel to be something he's not… you know who tried that? Metatron! And we are not going to be anything like him! This is Castiel's choice, let him make it".

The anger seemed to drain from Sam then, he sheepishly brushed a hand through his hair. "You're right… I'm sorry Cas. I didn't mean to… it's just, the solution to everything is sitting there. I got carried away. It shouldn't be all on you. Make your choice; we'll stand by you either way".

Castiel's focus narrowed down to the small vial on the table. Dean could see a war waging behind those eyes. It was a bloody battle over choice. The armies of Heaven stood on one side, wielding Castiel's need to save everybody and fix everything. Opposing them were the legions of humanity holding aloft their souls and hearts with the battle cry of emotion on their lips. Whoever won Castiel would lose. Eventually he looked away from the grace and spoke with a hollow voice.

"No… you were right Sam. I don't think I could be happy, truly happy, knowing they were still suffering out there and it was within my power to stop it. I am but one person, one human… one _angel_, what is my life against theirs? Besides, I will live beyond the soul I give up. Maybe some part of it will stay with me…Shut your eyes". He spoke like someone going to their death, joyless and finite.

Dean got up from the table as Castiel reached for his grace. He wanted to say something while the former angel was still human enough to appreciate it, the words just stuck in his throat… _I need you_… So he stepped forwards and pulled Castiel into a tight hug. It wasn't like their reunion in purgatory. Back then he was an angel, tense and solid beneath Dean's touch. Now he yielded to the gesture and returned it fourfold with his own warm embrace.

"Don't be a stranger". Dean managed to whisper.

"Shut your eyes Dean". Castiel finally let go.

Reluctantly Dean turned his back. It was all happening so quickly. Hours ago they were heading out on a run of the mill hunt and now _this_? Was there no time for one last beer? No precious minutes to say all that needed to be said? The bottle smashed… Dean couldn't help but take one last look over his shoulder. Dean watched the bright, white, grace pool on the floor before forming a cascade that surged at Castiel. It rushed towards his mouth and set his chest alight. The angel dropped to his knees, one hand slammed against the table to try and stop his descent.

"Shut your eyes!"

Dean obeyed. He heard nothing but Castiel's desperate gasps and finally a scream before all turned to white.

When he opened his eyes Castiel was gone.

-oOo-

The next day Dean woke alone. He half expected to find Castiel sitting in his chair, watching and waiting. But the room was silent and empty. The thought of praying crossed Dean's mind, but then he thought better of it. He had sat on this bed praying to Castiel before… and he would rather not be disappointed.

Life went on… he sat down to breakfast with Sam. Dean realised his brother had absent mindedly set out a bowl for Castiel as well. Sam came in with the cereal box and found Dean staring at it.

"Oh… I didn't think". He reached out to take the bowl away, but Dean stopped him.

"No, leave it. It's fine…" As ridiculous as it was some part of him hoped Castiel would drop in to eat with them. Even though he didn't need to eat now of course…

Later on Dean wandered down to Castiel's room. The trench coat hung over the back of the bedside chair. He wondered whether to clear it all out, Castiel wouldn't be using it as a room any more. Still… he might want some of this stuff. Dean mentally laughed at himself. Why would an angel want stuff? What use would he have for stuff while flitting about in Heaven?

He sat down on the bed with a sigh. A framed photo on the bedside table caught Dean's eye, he picked it up and handled it gently. It was Castiel and Katie sitting on a picnic blanket. With the angle it looked like a selfie she had taken of them. They both smiled so warmly… he looked genuinely happy. Dean couldn't help but feel his heart sink at the thought Castiel had all this taken away from him. Would he visit Katie? What would he tell her? Would he even care about her any more? Dean thought back to Castiel's wife… Daphne. When Castiel remembered he was an angel she was quickly forgotten. What became of her? Did she put up posters of Emmanuel's face? Walk the streets asking after her missing husband? Did she cry herself to sleep every night and curse the man who came knocking at her door to take him away? Dean made a mental note to drop by the library as soon as he could.

Dean put the photo back and closed the door on Castiel's room. He would leave it as it was for now. When he went back up Sam waved him over to the television. It was all over the news… the angels had mysteriously disappeared, and the detention centres were destroyed down to the last stone. It looked like Castiel had saved them. At long last he had managed to fix something.

A sudden crash came from the kitchen. The brothers rushed through to find Crowley face down on the floor, struggling to get to his feet with his hands cuffed behind his back.

"Crowley what the hell?!" Dean went to try and help him up.

"Don't ask me! One minute I'm in a cell with a guy the size of a bear eyeing me up, the next minute I'm staring at your delightful kitchen floor".

"It's Cas… it must be. He's fixing everything".

"Fantastic, I'll send him a fruit basket… Can you get these off?" He wiggled his fingers about.

"I'll go find a saw". Sam said with a smile.

-oOo-

The weeks passed with no word from Castiel. Dean threw himself back into hunting with Sam and now Crowley. He did manage to drop by the library and speak to Katie. She was a sweet girl, the sort of woman Castiel deserved. Though he was disheartened to learn she hadn't heard from him. The angel didn't even leave her a note… he just disappeared. Katie grew tearful as Dean spoke of Castiel. Dean told her that he had to leave suddenly, but he wanted her to know that she had made him happy.

When he got back to the bunker he found the place empty. Sam left a message that he and Crowley had gone on a supply run. So Dean went to fix a sandwich. When he walked through to sit at the table he nearly dropped it.

"Hello Dean".

Castiel was there. He wore his suit and trench coat and sat as stiffly as ever.

"Hello stranger, long time no see".

A broad grin spread across Dean's face. Though part of him was worried how much of 'his' Castiel was left. There had been so many versions over the years. Had this return to angelhood put him back to factory settings?

"I've been busy".

"So I hear… you're all over the news, what you've done anyway. So the angels are back where they belong?"

Castiel seemed to relax a little. "I restored them; luckily Metatron left instructions on how to reverse the spell. How is Sam?"

"He's just peachy, Crowley too. He'll want to thank you; you saved him from a bear man".

The angel frowned in confusion.

"Uh… Never mind. How is Heaven these days?"

"I don't know, I haven't been back… not since the others returned". Castiel looked away a moment, his straight façade seemed to crack. "Truthfully I am a little afraid to go back. I have been mortal, and some part of me is mortal yet. I am no longer like the others, I was always different, but no angel has seen the world through human eyes… no angel has felt as I have felt. Those who fell to humanity all lived on unaware or they were killed. None returned to grace, save Anna, and looked what happened to her".

"Haven't things changed? They won't kill you or reprogram you now will they?"

"I expect things have changed, knowing my family the factions will already be forming and fighting will start soon. But it's not _that_ I fear… I will be a fish out of water amongst them. I feel I have a foot on earth and a foot in Heaven, and I belong in neither place. I once tried to explain free will to angels having experienced it myself. They couldn't understand… and they won't understand now".

"Even after they've spent time down here? You don't think it will have changed them?"

"They were still angels. Their wings and powers were torn away but they were not granted souls. You saw for yourself how they still sought to follow others. They know nothing of love and regret".

"And you do?"

"I understand it more than I did before… I was wrong about being muted by grace. As I said, some part of me feels mortal still. I remember…"

"Do you remember Katie? Because I've just been to see her and she says you disappeared on her. Seems a bit cold hearted if you ask me".

"I disappeared because I feel too much... I couldn't bear to say goodbye… I couldn't bear to see her hurt".

"She was still hurt, whether you saw it or not. But don't worry, I set things straight".

The angel looked a little ashamed. "Thank you…"

A quiet moment passed between them before Dean ventured a question. "Did you make the right choice Cas? Do you regret taking your grace back?"

"Right choices… wrong choices… I know now that nothing is ever that simple. There is no black and white, only varying shades of grey. Though I lament what might have been, the angels have been saved. They are free from suffering and back in Heaven… back home where they belong. No sorrow will live in me with that joy".

Despite Castiel's words his manner seemed subdued. The angel's pain was written all over his face as he said… _back home where they belong_… and then Dean thought back to what Castiel had said about not belonging anywhere.

"Cas… you know you have a home here right? Wings or not, you're still my brother, you're still one of us".

Castiel gave a small smile and looked down at the table. "'_Home is any four walls that enclose the right person_' - I read that somewhere in the library when I was watching Katie and pretending not to…" He looked back at Dean in a pointed way. "Yes, this is my home. It always will be as long as you're here".

"Good, now Doctor Sexy is about to start, take a seat and let me grab you a beer".

"Dean, I don't-"

"I know you don't drink, but you're having one". He cut across the angel.

Castiel found a bottle pressed into his hand as he settled down in front of the television. They watched a couple of episodes of Doctor Sexy then switched channels to find a Star Wars marathon on. Dean insisted they watch it, he thought it was criminal that Castiel had lived as a human without seeing the originals. However Dean nodded off part way through 'The Empire Strikes Back'. Eventually he woke to the annoying strains of Jar Jar Binks. Dean scrambled to turn the TV off. In the silence that followed he rubbed at his eyes and realised he was alone.

"You really do suck at goodbyes…" Dean said to the air.

He got up and stretched, then decided to check in Castiel's room on the off chance he was down there. Of course, it was empty. Dean was about to close the door and leave when he noticed something missing… The photo was gone. Dean smiled wistfully… he still cared. He was still Dean's Castiel.

-oOo-

Morning came and Dean sighed into his pillow. Reality pulled away the comforting cover of sleep and begged him to open his eyes. Something else called him to awareness too… the prickling sensation that he wasn't alone.

"Hello Dean".

He rolled over to find Castiel sitting in his chair, relaxed and at ease.

For once Dean didn't scold the angel for being creepy. Instead he smiled warmly.

"Welcome home Cas".

_The ache for home lives in all of us_. _The safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned_

~ Maya Angelou


	11. Epilogue

Note: So here we are at the end. I kind of failed at making this a one shot didn't I? XD If you've made it this far I hope you've enjoyed it. I just want to thank everyone who has read, reviewed, followed and favourited this, every single one means the world to me :) And I particularly want to thank LilyBolt, her support and enthusiasm has just blown me away :D

**Epilogue**

It was a warm summer's day when Castiel alighted in a church yard. The church had been abandoned long ago, it was very old, made of stone and modelled on the ancient structures of Europe. But now only two walls stood, there was no stained glass left… it was a ruin and little more. Nature had reclaimed the hallowed ground it stood on. Trees grew tall and vines wound their way across the stone walls. Graves had become lost in the overgrown grass.

Castiel moved on, the church held no interest for him. He was here for something else. The grass reached past his knees as he made his way towards a corner of the graveyard. The balmy air did not concern the angel, and buzzing insects stayed away from his vessel's cool skin. He slipped past bushes untouched by stray branches that reached out to grasp at his trench coat. Eventually Castiel found what he was looking for beneath the shade of a great oak tree. It had grown since his last visit, and the grave had deteriorated, weathered by the elements and time.

The angel uprooted weeds and pushed aside wildflowers to reveal the marred stone surface of the grave. He knelt down before it. The words were near indecipherable.

Martin Hope

2..14 – 20..7

… Father … alw…s in our… earts

Castiel brushed his fingers lightly over the crumbling grave. When he drew them away there were two more words beneath the rest.

Beloved brother

Metatron had been right, Castiel never did hear from him again. The angel had searched Heaven, but there was no sign of him. He always had been one given to hiding… But Metatron had also been wrong. Castiel would offer him forgiveness. He had taken Castiel's choice, but in doing so he gave the gift of humanity the angel would never have known... Castiel could not find his brother, and so he did what he could with the etching of stone.

As Castiel knelt before the inconspicuous grave in a long forgotten churchyard a butterfly suddenly appeared to flutter around his head. It alighted on the stone surface and flexed its delicate white wings. Castiel wondered at the story of Martin Hope, he lived, tale untold. Had his life been a happy one, filled with love and no regret? Metatron, so eager for stories, had taken his own to the grave.

The butterfly flapped once, twice, and took to the air.

Sometimes a week dancing on the wind was enough.


End file.
